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Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  NY.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


4^ 


v 


"<<^J%^ 


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ciHivr 

Microfiche 

Series 

(Monographs) 


/ 


ICMH 

Collection  de 
microfiches 
(monographies) 


5V'-     -"^o.  •» 


«t^ 


Canadian  Inttltuta  for  Hittorlcal  Microreproductlons  /  Institut  Canadian  da  microreproductions  historiquas 


# 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Motes  /  Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best  original 
copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this  copy  which 
may  be  bibliographically  unique,  which  may  alter  any 
of  the  Iniiages  in  the  reproduction,  or  which  may 
significantly  dhange  the  usual  method  of  filming,  are^ 
checked  below. 


□ 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 

Covers  damaged/ 
Couverture  endqmmag^ 


Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restauree  et/ou  pellicula 


□  Cover  title  mi 
Le  titre  de  cot 


issing/ 
couverture  manque 


D 
D 
D 
D 


Coloured  maps/ 

Cartes  giographiques  en  couleur 

Coloured  ink  (i.e.'^other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bieue  ou  noire) 

Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 
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Bound  with  other  material/ 
Relie  avec  d'autres  documents 


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along  interior  margin/ 

La  reliure  serr^  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
distorsion  le  long  de  la  marge  interieure 

□  Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may  appear 
within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these  have 
been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajouties 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  le  texte, 
mais,  lorsque  cela  etait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  ete  filmees. 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  le  meilleur  exemplaire  qu'il 
lui  a  M  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details  de  cet 
exemplaire  qui  sont  peut-4tre  uniques  du  pointy  vue 
bibliogrfphique,  qui  peuvent  modifier  unf  image 
reproduite.  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une  modification 
dans  la  mithode  normale  de  f  ilmage  spnt  indiqufc 
ci-dessous. 

□  Coloured  pages/ 
Pages  de  couleur 

□  Pages  damaged/' 
Pages  endommag^  • 

□  Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Pages  restaurtes  «t/ou  pellicultes 

^^  .    . 

0  Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 
Pages  d^olortes,  tacheties  ou  piquees 

□  Pages  detached/ 
Pages  d^tachies 


0Showthrough/ 
Transparence 

□  Quality  of  print  varies/ 
Qualite  inigale  de  I'impression 


% 


r 


n 


Continuous  pagination/ 
Pagination  continue 


□  Includes  index(es)/ 
Comprend  un  (des)  index 

Title  on  header  taken  from:/ 
Le  titre  de  I'en-tCte  provient: 

□  Title  page  of  issue/ 
Page  de  titre  de  la  livraison 

□  Caption  of  issue/ 
Titre  de  depart  de  la 


D 


livraison 


fMasthead/ 

Generique  (periodiques)  de  la  livraison 


0 


Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  supplementaires: 


Page  312  is  incorrectly  nuabered  page  31. 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  f  ilme  au  taux  de  rMuction  Jndiqui  ci-dessous. 

10X  14X  18X 


22X 


26X       H- 


30X 


; 


12X 


16X 


20X 


24  X 


28X 


32  X 


»ue 


The  copy  filmed  here  has  been  reproduced  thanks 
to  the  generosity  of: 

/     ■'  .  .^-•■*'  -'-'^   •* 

National  Libratcy-oTCanade 

*     /  •  1v 

/  '  ■  •   " 

The  iniages  aj>p6ar^ng  here  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  briginal  copy  and  in  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a'  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sipn,  or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  briginal  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending.on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


L'exemplaire  film6  fut  reproduit  grSce  A  la 
g6ndrosit6  de:' 

Bibliothdque  nationale  du  Canada 


Les  inljige^  suivantes  ont  6t6  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et    ' 
de  Id  nettetd  de /l'exemplaire  filmd,  et  en 
conformit6  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
fiimage. 

Les.exemplaires  originaux  dont  Ja  couverture  en 
'  papier  est  imprimde  sont  filmds  en  commengant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  selon  le  cas.  Tous  les  autres  exernplaires 
originaux  sont  film^s  en  commenpant  par  la 
premiere  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte. 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  —^-  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED "),  or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  '^END  "), 
whichever  applies. 


Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
dernidre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbole  — ►  signifie  "A  SUiVRE  ".  le 
symbole  V  signifie  "FIN". 


Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  Atre 
filmds  d  des  taux  de  reduction  diffdrents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  dtre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  clich6,  il  est  filmd  i  partir 
de  Tangle  supirieur  gauche,  de  gauche  d  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  n^cessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  m^thode. 


1 

2 

3 

i,.* 


1 


22X 


6 


A 


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E     SEA.. 


39     Me  I^ 


FOE  OIE  WOMAI: 


AN   EPISODE    OP    THE    COLONIZATION    OP    CANADA. 


TBANSI^T^ltS  FBOH  THB  FltENOH  C» 

/ 

/ 

H.     EMILE**  CHEVALIER, 

'  BT  , 

E.    L    SEARS,  ^M., 

SMTOB  Ol-  "HAIIOWAL  QpABTIBLT  BOTHW." 


M 


-qnr^^ 


NEW    YORK: 

(SUOCEBSOB  TO  K.  ioOLADT,) 

40    "WALKBB    BTBBEI^ 
1862. 


»>J 


,jjgg|MM^mM|y|jK!?3n.rT»,T«.T-««S6|^g|r-j^^irj'l5» 


PS^^^ 


77  8  oil 


*?.'■■ 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  CongreM,  In  the  year  1862,  by 
JOHN    BRADBURN, 
[n  the  Clerk's  Office  ofthe  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Soutlia 
District  of  New  York. 


/ 


LAIfOB  *  BBOTHBB, 

«  Trlntcrs  and  Btei^type»i 
no  Grand  Street. 


"''"-;r-';A 


INTRaDXJCTION. 


4^' 


« 


Itates  for  the  Southen  j 


M.     Hj    JL     GARNBlAtT, 

QtBBEO,    LOWZB    OakaDA. 

•     \  ..  -nx     ■, 

Monsieur,— Jn  the  second  chapter  of  your  excellent  His- 
|>ry  6f  Canada,  "one  of  the  best  productions  of  the  human 

id,"  after  having  recounted  the  jealousies  which  the 
^phews  of  James  Cartier  had  to  encounter  on  the  shores    * 

the  St.  Lawrence,  you  say : 

"  In  order  to  avoid  being  exposed  any  longer  to  those  attacks 
ley  solicited  from  the  crown  the  renewal  of  the  privileges,  which 
Id  been  accorded  to  their  undo,  namely,  fhe  exclusive  right  of 
fcdmg  with  the  savages,  and  to  work  the  mines  which  they  had 
covered.  In  consideration  of  the  services  of  the  great  navigator 
Iters-patent  were  granted  to  them  in  1588.  But  as  soon  as  the' 
fair  was  kno^vn,  the  merchants  of  St.  Malo  petitioned  the 
hyy  council  to  have  those  privileges  revoked,  and  they  succeed- 
!m  doing  so;  but  without  profiting  much  by  it  themselves ;  for 
m  1598,  the  year  of  the  establishment  of  peace,  the  Marquis  de  la 
Dche,  of  the  province  of  Brittany,  caused  himself  to  be  confirmed 
r  the  king  m  the  office  of  Lieutenant-Qeneral  of  Canada  of  Acadia 
Id  the  adjacent  countries,  which  Hemy  III.  had  ah-eady  granted 
I  him,  but  which  the  troubles  of  the  kingdom  had  prevented  him 
bm  enjoying,  with  powers  which  had  the  same  extent  as  thbse 
»  Koberval,  and  which  annihilated  the  Uberty  accord^  to  the 


^:;-,:^^^;v 


•:r-v 


1. 1 


( I 


tnerchants  of  St.  Malo.  He  was  aathorized  to  select  in  the  porta 
«of  France  Buch  ships,  masters,  and  sailors  as  he  might  require ;  to 
raise  troops,  to  make  war,  and  to  btiild  cities  within  the  limits  of 
his  viceroyalty ;  to  promulgate  laws  in  the  same,  and  cause  them  to 
be  executed ;  to  make  grants  of  lands  to  noblemen,  as  fiefs,  lord- 
ships, baronies,  counties,  etc. ;  in  short,  to  regulate  the  congimerce 
left  now  upder  his  absolute  control.  Thus  clothed  with  an  authority 
as  complete  as  despotic,  he  sailed  for  the  New  World  with  sixty 
men.  No  merchant  dared  to  raise,  his  voice  against  the  monopoly 
of  this  nobleman,  as  had  been  done'against  the  nephews  of  Carticr; 
bis  rank  imposed  silence  on  them;  but  other  cagfi^  were  destined 
to  ruin  his  projects. 

"  The  Marquis  de  la  Roche,  fearing  the  desertion  of  his  people, 
Composed  of  malefactors  and  believing  that  place  more  convenient 
until  he  had  found  on  the  main-land  a  territory  more  suitable  to  his 
design,  landed  them  at  the  Isle  of  Sable  at  the  entrance  of  the  Gulf 
of  St'.  Lawrence.    This  island,  in  the  form  of  a  crescent,  narrow, 
arid,  and  of  wild  aspect,  produced  neither  trees  nor  fhiits — nothing  | 
but  a  little  grass  and  moss  around  a  lake,  situated  in  the  centre. 
After  having  placed  his  colonists  in  this  desolate  place,  surrounded  [ 
by  sand-banks,  indented  by  the  sea,  La  Roche  passed  into  Acadia 
On  returning,  he  was  surprised  by  a  furious  tempest,  which  in  ten  ^ 
days  chafed  him  to  the  shores  of  Franc^jyhcre  he  had  no  sooner 
set  foot  than  he  found  himself  envelopeOTn  a  multitude  of  diffi- 
culties, in  the  midst  of  which  the  Duke  de  Mercoeur,  who  com- 
manded in  Brittany,  detained  him  for  some  tinje,  as  a  prisoner.  .It  ws 
was  not  until  the  end  of  five  years  that  he  had  an  opportunity  o! ! 
relating  to'  the  king,  who  happened  to  be  at  Rouen,,  what  had  be-  'I 
fallen  him  in  his  voyage.     The  king,  touchpd  with  the  fate  of  the 
unfortunate  men  abandoned  in  the  Isle  of  Sable,  ordered  that  the  i 
pilot  who  had  left  them  there  should  immediately  proceed  in  searciij 
of  theuL     Since  left  to  themselves,  these  men,  accustomed  to  giTe| 
full  scope  to  their  passions,  would  no  longer  recognize  any  mastcL| 
Discord  had  armed  them  against  each  other,  and  several  had; 
perished  in  quarrels,  which  rendered  their  miserable  situation  stil| 
more  sad.     At  length,  however,  miseiy  had  subdued  these  fiem ) 
characters,  so  that  they  finally  assumed  habits  more  peaceable,  ami  | 
better  calculated  for  their  preservation.     Tliey  constructed  huS| 
with  the  debris  of  a  ship  wrecked  on  the  rocks  of  the  shore ;  anil 
they  subsisted  for  sqme  time  on  the  aninuils  which  Baron  de  Leit| 
had  disembarked  there  some  twenty-fout  years  previously,  &m 


^< 


'?-•  T. 

^Ich  had  propagated  themselves  in  the  island.  They  domesticated 
)me  which  furnished  them  milk.  But  this  resource  had  begun  to 
I ;  and  all  that  remained  for  thtfm  now,  as  a  means  of  subsistence, 
a  to  turn  their  attention  to  fasting.  When  their  clofhes  wero 
om  they  repla«;ed  them  by  seal-skins.  On  their  return,  Henry  IV, 
Ished  to  see  them  dressed  as  they  had  been  found.  Their  beard 
Id  hair,  which  they  had  allowed  to  grow,  hung  in  disorder  on 
"eir  bosoms  and  shoulders.  Their  forms  had  already  assumed  a 
liry  and  savage  appearance,  which  made  Uiem  resemble  Indians 
Iher  than  civilized  men.  The  king  caused  fifty  crowns  to  be 
^tributed  to  each,  and  permitted  them  to  return  to  their  families 
^h  the  privilege  of  being  exempt  from  all  puhisfiment  for  their 
"Tier  offenses. 

"  The  Marquis  de  la  Roche,  who  had  mvested  all  his  fortune  in 
^s  enterprise,  lost  it  in  consequence  of  misfortunes,  which  did  not 

se  to  oppress  him.  Ruined,  and  without  any  hope  of  being  able 
!  resume  a  project  which  he  had  always  so  much  at  heart,  griei 
'zed  on  him,  and  took  him  slowly  to  his  grave.     The  history  of 

I  voyages,  and  misfortunes,  of  colonists  whtch  followed  him  to 

I  Isle  of  SablQ,  form  an  episode  worthy  of  exercising  the  pen  of  a 

nancer." 

There  is  in  your  narration  the  outline  of  a  bea^tiful 
storical  romance ;  I  am  happy  to  have  responded  to  the 
^peal  which  serious  literature  has  made  to  hght  literature; 
3uld  that  I  could  have  suitably  ^one  it,  and  b6en  able 
secure  for  this  book  sufficient  success  to  encourage  me 
i  dramatize  the  most  remarkable  episodes  of  the  history 
^  Canada ! 

Accept,  Monsieur,  with  my  sentiments  of  high  con- 
Jeration,  the  assurance  of  my  sincere  friendship, 

H.  EMILE  CHEVALIER 

kris,  January,  29  18G0. 


.\l 


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TRANSLATOR'S    PREFACE. 


^ 


rhere  are  many  well  meaning  people  who  would  infer  ftt)nf  the 
le  of  thlB  novel  that  it  is  immoral;  but  such  are  assured  that 
fre  18  not  a  word  in  it,  from  beginning  to  end,  "which  angeta 
kht  not  hear,  and  virgins  tell ;»  and  I  may  be  permitted  to  add 
V  had  it  been' of  a  different  character,  I  should  have  had  nothing 
■flo  with-it.    To  translate  a  vicious  Ubok,  would  iU  become  one 
o,  in  his  Review,  and  elsewhere,  has  denounced  in  elaborate  ar- 
les  the  efforts  of  certain  publishers,  to  introduce  to  the  mothen.  " 
¥e8  and  daughters  of  America,  a  chss  of  French  novels  which 
^resent  female  virtue  and  fidelity,  so  fdr  as  they  recognize  the  ex- 
ace  of  those  qualities  at  all,  as  superstiUons  worthy  oiUy  of  the 
'ar  and  uncultivated. 

fut  the  work  of  Chevallier  is  not  the  less  lively  and  fascinatimr 
fbeing  scrupulously  chaste  in  its  moral  tone.  It  was  no  predelic- 
.  of  mmethat  selected  it  from  the  mass  of  recent  French  novels- 
las  presented  to  me  with  the  wish  that  I  would  translate  if  I 
Wd  of  it.  aaer  it  had  been  r^pmtnended  to  the  published  by 
pral  competent  persons  who  «xamined  it  A  glance  at  its 
.satisfied  me  that,  apart  froJ  {he  light  It  sheds  on  the  early 
Ini^tion  of  Canada,  it  is  such  as  would  be  eminently  accept 
I  to  themass  of  novel  readers  in  this  country,  especially  to  those 
►  hke  to  trace  the  facts  of  history  in  the  light,  att«ictive  garb  of 

Jill  notforesta^Uhe  interest  of  the  reader  by  giving  any  analy- 
If  the  plot.  Suffice  it  to  observe  that  the  story  abounds  in  inoi- 
I  and  adventure;  its  descrifcdbs  of  natural  scenery  and  port- 
hres  of  character  are  lively,  graphic,  and  truthful ;  and  thecharm 
te  narrative  i> -ureases  as  the  story  proceeds.  Guyonhe  (the  One 
ban  forTh^-ty-Nh.eMen.)  is  a  true  heroine,  and  presents  an  . 
"tible  illusu-ation  of  female  devoUon,  fid^tf,  and  self-denial. 


V. 


'^■*' 


/ 


s%^t^k. 


'^j^2SM:i^M,.u'jto, ,j,  i.A. 


^^^^^!i\  . 


".fe^ 


^  ■ 


ir 


r^fi^s^H^- 


TU«»  charactcre  of  Iho./Marquls  de  la  Roche,  Laura  dc  Kcrskocn, 
ViBCOunt  de  Ganay,.the  Pilot-Chodotcl,  the  sailor,  Francccur.^tc.,- 
each  the  type  of  a  dasB,  I  leave  the  reader  to  discover  for  himself.     , 
merely  remarking  that  the  relations  of  all,  both  to  the  heroine  and  - 
to^each  other,  are  dcyeloped  with  considerable  artistic  skill  and  In- 
genuity.  _  ,  , 

.     Althot^gh  the  intervals  I  have  been  able  to  devote  to  the  mfrk, 
would  have  been  little  enough^  transcribe  an  equal  number  51 
pages  from  aiT English  book,! think  it  will  be  found  that  there 
is  not  much  of  th«  spirit  of  the  original  lotft  iathe  trah^lation. 
There  are,  indeed,  ^me  typographical  errors  here  and  there,  but  U 
iB  due  to  the  honest  printer  to  say  Ihat  he  is  les?  to  blame  for  tjiia 
"  than  my  illegible  pcrawl.    My  greatest  trouble,  however,  has  been 
with  the  orthographical  inijovations  of  Webster,  which  confronted 
me  in  every  proof  sheet  like  a  genius  of  evil  wishing  to  give  all  the 
annoyance  in  his  power.   I  make  the  remark,  however,  not  by  way 
of  feult  finding,  biit  because  many  wUl  read  this  book  who  are  not 
aware  that  the  spelUng  of  Webster,  in  almost  all  the  words  whose 
orthbgrapliy  he  has  attempted  to  alter,  is  much  more  French  thait 
English.    Thus,  in  words  in  which  we  use  e,  the  French  use  »,  and 
vice  wrsa,  tJi  in  sympathize,  baptiw,  spiritualise,  etc.,  eta,  which  m 
French  are  sympathiaer,  baptiaer,  spirituallier,  etc.,  etc.,  and  the 
Bamem  Webster's  English;  an  observation  whicli  would  apply 
with  equal  force  t<i>  Arent  other  cWes'of  wdrds  that  are  a 
Bource  of  so  much  trduble  to  pfoof-readers  and  editors.   Then,  if  in  ^ 
two  or  three  instances  the  same  word  is  found  spelt  alternately  ac- 
cording to  Webster  and  Worcester,  or  according  to  the  French  and 
English  systems,  let  the  reader  be  good  enough  to  retoemter  the 
cause  of  the  anomaly.— , 

s.  L  a 


^ 


\ 


^ 


U BW  YOBK,  October  27. 


l^^.i^.-'.V.^I 


feS^Sfe^'-s' ^"      -^Si  •"'■-''' \^    j»  .-■ 


^  !'■'.■■  "w*  *  '.    '  •         I 

■       '  <  '  -    \ 

•     .    ■:•    •    \ 

'  ■  -        r  ^     •    '\         " 

\.  '      .  ■  "  -  ' 

,    CONTENTS.'' 

ji  .  „        ' 

latroduction.    .                                                                    ''•s*-; 
*-:  •       •       •       -     .       .       19 

I^ROLOGUE. 

Chapteb     I,  The  Bandits,   ....'' 

".      'II.,  Laura  de  Kerskoen,    .                   *       *  *         . 

"        III,  The  Manor,     .        .        .'/'/'  .' 

'•        IV,  The  Uncle  ahd  his  Niece,  .      ,*  v      '  '       „„ 

V,  The  Troubadour                      /*       '  ' 

"         VL,  TheAttaofc,         .           '       *       *       *  .    *        ?i  • 

"        VII:,  Bertrand,        /  • ' .    *  .-   *       *    ,  *  '           ^ 

"      Vp.,  TheEva'sion,       .       .'.*.*       *  * /^  "**   ' 

*\      IX.,  Before  the  Departure,     .       .  '          ^^    . 


/  ■ 


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I  '-      /*   '  ^jft-*"' 


«  ' 


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Part  L 


■A.T     SEA. 

Chapteb    I,  Guyonne.thePisherwoman.'f      .       .      ,  53 

n.^  The  Embarkment *   .  '  ^q 

••        m.,  The  Castor,     .       .       .       .       .       ,    \  ^g 

"        rV.,  The  Storm, '       *  gg 

v.,  The  Conspiracy, gg 

"        VI.,  Revolt  on  Board gg 

"      VII.,  ThQ  Execution,       .       .       .*.'*.*.  105 
Vin.,  The  Lore  of  a  FIsherwomap,  wd  the  Love 

of  a  Pilot,    .......  109 

"        IX.,  Famine,   ......  ijg 

X.,  Land, ^       ^  ^^ 

"   ^  XI.,  The  Arrival .130 

■4 


^  Past  IL 

Chapteb    I,  The  Isle  of  Sable,          .  .00 

"  IL,  The  Forty, j^j 

ni.,  First  Day  on  the  Isle  of  Sable,  147 

.   «        IV.,  Brise-tout,       .       .       .       .       .    '  ..  *  .  .  153 

"  v..  The  Legend, jgg 

"        VI.,  The  Shipwreck,     .       .  .  '       '        j^g 

"       Vn.,  The  Wreck '    .   *    .  *     '185 

"     Vin.,  The  Erable,    ...  191 

:        I^.TheCoffer,         .       .       .*.■.:.•     ,,, 

X.,  Mysterious,     .       .        .       .        ^        ^       .204 

.    ",  ._&Pigoovery,^. .  1. __^_l,Jl^L  ^^^ 


^ 


[z 

[CHAPTEnXn.,  DeathofBrise-tout,        .       .       .       .  •     .     217 

"     XIII.,  A  Pejplexity, 233 

"      XIV.,  The  Intrigue, 228 

"       XV.,  The  Insurrection,        ,       .     ' .       .       .         233 
"     XVL,  The  Combat .237 

FIVE   "2r3=!.A.'RS   AJPOTEH. 

/ 

Chapter  XVTL,  The  Mute,    .       .       .       .^k      .       .244 

"   .   Xym,  Philip  and  Guyonne,       ..     .       .  .    .       '255 

**         XIX.,  Fragments  of  a  Journal,     .       .  "^    ,       ,     203 

"  XX.,  The  Surprise .         274 

**         XXI.,  Questions  and  Responses 280 

*•       XXIL,  Guyonne  and  John,         .       .       .       .         289 
«    .  XXm.,  Love,   ...       .       .       .       .       .296 

•♦      XXIV.,  Return  of  the  Castor 800 

"        XXV.,  Conclusion,    ^ 811 


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--IT-    i;-':;-^ 


THIBTT-lriNE 


MEN  FOR   ONE   WOMm      " 
I'ROLOGUE 


IN    BRITTAKY. 


»**- 


CHAPTER  L  \ 

l^V  ^l  T"^^  ^  '^'  "^"'^^^  ^^^^3^'  15^8,  two  cava. 
Irs  st^  from  the  city  of  St.  Malo,  took  the  overland 
hte  which  led  to  the  South,  and  advanced  towards  a  steep 
Bteao.      I  * 

Jese  two  cavaliers  wore  a  costume  half  military,  half 

tly.    The  elder  appeared  to  be  forty-five  years. 

he  other  was  a  yomig  man  clad  with  a  taste,  at  once 

bre  ^ddminguS.    Although  armed  like  his  companion, 
Beemed  as  if  returning  from  a  fete,  or  going  to  some 

^ce  remuon  of  lords.    His  physiognomy  had  an  air  of 

amme  jnteepidity  wMGteh«»eteria^  ti^o^oots  0 
I  nobihty  J  his  features  were  deUfl||^  but  ^s  eye  sparkled 


'    iMt^Jt    1    *..lA 


3  iV'-i^fii*^  t^iifX 


/3/ 


with  pride ;  his  face  was  white  as  marble,  but  large  an ;' 
full;  his  nose  finely  designed,  but  bold  in  its  cast;  hi; 
mouth  small,  but  sarcastic ;  his  chin  agreeable,  but  elongat 
ed ;  his  body  slim,  but  muscular  and  vigorously  formed 
In  a  word,  he  was  the  type  of  that  Frankish  race  whic; 
imposed  itself  on  Gaul,  by  brute  force,  after  the  decay  c 
the  Roman  Empire, 

The  first  was  William,  Marquis  de  la  Roche-Gommard  | 
the  second,  John,  Viscount  de  Ganay.    The  fioipier  was; 
Breton,  the  latter  a  Burgundian. 

Both  numbered  coronets  among  their  ancestors,  and  a 
though  the  feudal  ice  had  begun  to  thaw  beneath  the  sui  j 
of  royalty,  the  De  la  Roches  and  De  Ganays  were  forc& 
to  follow  the  superannuated  traditions  of  their  fathers 
Hence  it  was  that  John  had  been  sent  into  Brittany  by  th  | 
Count  Germain  de  Ganay,  his  father,  there  to  learn  his  firj  3 
lessons  in  the  use  of  arms  under  the  patronage  of  the  Mai  I 
quis  de  la  Roche,  with  whom  he  had  formed  a  friendly  in  I 
timacy  during  the  wars  of  the  League.  After  having  diil 
charged  the  duties  of  a  page,  John  caused  himself  to  b  I 
promoted  to  the  rank  of  grand  equerry,  and  under  thi  f 
title  served  William  de  la  Roche. 

For  half  an  hour  the  two  cavaliers  rode  on  without  saj 
ing  a  word.  The  road  they  passed  was  zigzag  and  rugged 
and  deeply  incased  between  a  double  hedge  of  hawthon 
and  cherry-trees  in  blossom.     The  marquis,  grave  aaj 
thoughtful,  abandoned  himself  to  the  easy  gait  of 
charger ;  the  viscount,  not  less  thoughtful,  looked  close 
at  the  horizon,  and  no  doubt  would  fain  have  presst 
ward  the  hands  of  his  watch,  but  a  sentiment  of  defereni^ 


;i/^. 


8 

trained  Jiim  from  leaving  his  companion,  who  foDowed  at 
short  distance.  Suddenly,  as  they  reached  a  place  where 
le  road  formed  an  angle,  five  cavaUers,  fuUy  armed,  dashed 
It  before  them,  and  ordered  them  to  halt. 

By  the  masp,  what  does  this  mean  ?"  excslaimed  Wil- 

im  de  la  Roche,  drawing  his  sword. 

« Surrender,  or  you  are  dead  men!"  commarided  one  of 
i,Q  cavaUers,  whose  hehnet  was  surmounted  with  a  black 
lunjie. 

«  By  my  word,"  retorted  De  la  Roche ;  « the  invitation 
as  curious  as  it  is  courteous.  Who  are  you,  my  good 
m,  that  you  come  into  our  presence  without  permission? 
ick,  clown  I  if  you  don't,  I  will  have  you  hung  high  and 
lort,  both  you  and  the  cowardly  bandits  who  accompany 


Du 


[This  menace  did  not  intimidate  the  assailants,  for  they 
Iplied  only  with  a  shout  of  derisive  laughter,  during  which 
le  chief  resumed  his  summons. 
[^«  I  am  of  a  good  family,  Marquis  de  la  Roche,"  said  he; 

"  I  declare  you  my  jJrisoner." 
j«  Wait  till  you  have  captured  me  before  you  indulge  in 
ch  bragadocia,  chevalier-traitor  and  felon.    Now,  I  wiU 
lock  you  down,  or  fire  on  you,  as  on  a  mad  dog." 
pe  la  Roche,  after  a  sign  to  De  ^anay,  rapidly  replaced 

sword  in  the  scabbard,  and  raised  a  pistol  in  each  hand, 
ke  young  man 'imitated  this  movement  with  no  less 

"aptitude. 

'Come  ottlC^e  oaf    Srew   the  mscre^t^Sp 
^ves  1"  shouted  the  chief  of  the  ruflians. 


■piipiPiipiiHI 


"  Coward  I  Come  down  and  measure  yourself  with  me 
at  arm's  length !" 

"  A  hundred  crowns  of  gold  for  you  if  you  bring  me  the 
marquis  living,"  he  contented  himself  by  saying  to  one  of  his 
underlings. 

♦^Receive  this,  at  all  events,  on  account,"  replied  De  h 
Roche,  pointing  one  of  his  pistols  at  his  adversary. 

But,  although  he  took  deliberate  aim,  the  shot  had  no 
effect.    The  ball  reboimded  from  the  cuirass  of  the  cheT-  i 
alier  without  even  indenting  it,  and  the  bandits  sought  tc  :| 
surround  our  heroes,  in  order  to  cut  off  their  retreat.  Thret 
more  shots  were  heard  mmost  instantaneously.    John  had 
fired  with  his  two  pistols,  andDe  la  Roche  with  the  one  h 
had  left.    In  the  midst  of  the  smoke,  produced  by  the  triplf 
explosion,  it  was  impossible  to  tell  the  extent  of  the  result  ^ 
However,  a  man  vacated  his  stirrups,  roUed  on  the  ground  | 
and  the  issue  of  the  combat  was  worse  than  doubtful  whei 
a  troop  of  gens  d^armea  debpuched  from  a  neighborius. 
underwood. 

"  Mine,  mine !"  exclaimed  William  de  la  Rtoche,"  di»t| 
tinguishing  the  colors  of  his  flag,  and  the  newcomers  im  i 
mediately  put  spurs  to  their  horses,  but  the  bandits  fore 
seeing  that  they  would  be  overwhelmed  by  numbers,  tumei 
their  reins  and  rode  off  at  a  gallop. 

The  marquis  selected  some  men  to  pursue  them,  then  It  i 
alighted  to  ascertain  who  was  the  victim  of  the  attempt «;; 
his  person.    John  de  Ganay  wished  to  aid  him  in  the  in  ^ 
vestigation,    but  a  glance  prevented  him.    Covered  witj 


blood  and  dust,  the  wounded  man  panted  heavily  uude  ^ 


v''* 


e  yourself  with  me 


IS  envelop  of  iron.  He  was  struck  on  the  right  shoidder, 
le  cuirass  being  defective  in  that  part,  and  writhed  his 
'hole  body  a  prey  xjo  horrible  tortures.  William  de  la 
loche  approached  ^m,  rested  his  knee  on  his  breast,  un- 
ickled  the  ties  of  His  hehnet,  Ufted  his  cap,  and  for  an  in- 
fant exMnined  the  face  of  the  bandit.  « 
"  Who  are  you  ?»  he  asked. 

"I  want  a  drink— Fm  thirsty— Fm  burning;  for  th^ 
•ve  of  Heaven,  give  me  something  to  drink  1"  replied  the 
iknown,  in  a  chokmg  voice. 

By  order  of  WilHam  de  la  Roche,  one  of  the  armed  men 
to  a  neighboring  spring,  took  some  water  in  his  helmet 

id  brought  it  to  the  wounded  man,  who  drank  with  avid- 
the  refreshing  liquor. 

**  Ah  I»  said  he, '« that  does  me  good  I" 

But  who  are  you  ?    To  whom  do  you  belong  ?»  reiter- 
id  the  marquis. 

The  stranger  remained  silent. 

Speak,  or  I  will  perforate  you  like  a  miserable  heretic ;" 
ided  Pe  h.  Roche,  with  a  significant  gesture. 

"Monseigneurl"  said  the  unfortunate,  trembling  wiUi 
light. 

"Will  you  speak?" 

I"  Well,"  stammered  he  in  a  tone  so  low  that  William 
obhged  to  stoop  almost  to  his  mouth,  m  order  to  hear 
I,  "  I  am  in  the  pay  of  the  Duke  de  Mercceur." 
♦Duke  de  Mercceur  I  Aht  1  ^nbfedTt.    W¥a8  he^ 
10  wore  the  dark  plume.    Was  it  not?'* 


f 


.i.^m 


"I  don't  know."     ' 
'    «  My  God,  you  lie,  soldier !" 

«  No,  monseigneur;  I  swear  it  to  you  on  the  bones  of  my 
happy  patron." 

"  Do  you  think  you  can  deceive  me  by  these  impostures  ?'* 

"lam  suffering;  oh,  I  am  suffering  infernal  pains  and 
chastisements!"  groaned  the  soldier,  the  convulsions  of  pain 
suffocating  him.  ** 

"Let  his  cuirass  be  taken  ofi;  and  let  him  be  put  on  a 
horse,"  ordered  De  la  Roche,  jumping  into  his'saddle.  We 
are  but  a  short  distance  from  the  manor ;  there  he  will  be 
Bhaved^by  our  barber,  and  to-morrow  he  will  have  to  un- 
dergo an  examination.  You  will  answer  for  it  tome  on 
your  neck."  ,/ 

Immediately  the  little  troop  commenced  its  march,  head- 
ed by  the  two  noblemen. 

"The  scoundrel!"  muttered  the  marquis  between  his 
teeth,  "  attempting  to  capture  me  by  an  ambuscade  I  He 
has  no  more  courage  than  a  wet  hen.  Why  not  call  me  to 
the  field,  and  then,  if  he  has  so  many  griefs  agamst  me,  we 
shall  see."f- 

TumirSg  himself  suddenly  towards  John  de  Ganay,  he 

added : 

**I  hope,  my  friend,  you  have  received  no  hurt." 
"Vo^fiir,  thanks  to  Heaven;  the  wretches  failed  to  touch 

me.  :But  do  you  know  the  trdtor-chevalier  whom  they 

obeyed?"  ( 

Thft«v^i^ma regarded  his  interlo^tor  wi^i^everity,  and^ 

lowered  his  eyebrows. 


vt 


I 

«Pardon!'»  said  John,  disconcerted  by  the  scrutiny  of  this 
cutting  look. 

"  Your  curiosity  is  excusable,  viscount,"  replied  De  la 
Roche,  changing  his  tone.  "Besides,  if,  is  time  that  I  should 
initiate  you  into  the  secrets  of  the  fanuly  into  whii  you 
desire' to  enter.  Do  not  blush;  I  know  you  are  attached 
to  my  niece,  Laura  de  Kerskoen :  and  I  beUeve  the  young 
lady  does  not  look  on  you  with  any  unfriendly  eye.  I  feel, 
therefore,  that  I  ought  to  confide  to  you  certain  affairs,  of  a 
very  grave  nature,  before  accomplishing  a  project  which 
will  perhaps  cost  me  my  life.  Will  you  swear  to  me  that, 
in  case  I  perish,  you  will  take  Laura  for  your  legitimate 
wife." 

"  I  swear  it,  on  the  guard  of  my  sword  1"  said  John  de 
Ganay,  solemnly. 

»  **  Your  oath  satisfies  me.  Learn  then,  that  I  have  in  the 
Duke  de  Mercoeur,  governor  of  the  beautiful  province  of 
Brittany,  an  implacable  enemy,  who  for  twenty-five  years 
has  done  all  in  his  power  to  sully  the  escutcheon  of  De  la 
Roche,  and  dishonor  its  chief  I  will  explain  to  you  the 
motive  of  this  hatred:— The  duke  was  smitten  by  my  young- 
est sister,  Adelaide  de  la  Roche,  the  mother  of  Laura.  As 
he  was  a  man  of  dissolute  and  perverse  habits,  my  father 
refused  him  the  iiand  of  his  daughter,  whom  he  married  to 
Count  Alfred  de  Kerskoen.  Thenceforward,  De  Mercoeur 
breathed  an  enmity,  which  time  only  increases.  After  hav- 
ing circulated  odious  reports  about  my  sister,  he  challenged 
her  husband  to  single  combat,  and  lolled  him.  Then,  with 
his  hand,  dripping  with  the  blood  of  my  brother-in-law, 
he  dared  to  renew  his  propositions  to  the  widox.    She  re- 


dox. 


A 


.  «    ■  (8 

pulsed  him  with  hoi+or,  and  died  almost  immediately  giv- 
ing birth  to  Ladra.    This  took  place  in  1581 ;  I  was  at  the 
siege  of  Cambray.     On  my  return  to  Brittany  I  received 
this  sad  news.    Without  waiting  to  change  my' dress,  I 
proceeded  to  Rennes,  ■  where  the  duke  held  his  court,  and 
there,  before  all  his  fierce  barons,  I  insulted  him  grossly. 
Next  day  we  foughl  on  horseback,  determined  that  one  or- 
the  other  should  die;    He  having  been  dismounted,  we  re- 
commenced the  combat  on  foot.    His  sword  broke  againpt 
mine ;  and  he  was  at  my  mercy,  when  by  a  sentiment  of 
compassion,  for  which  I  shall  ever  reproach  myself,  •! 
granted  him  his  life.    Far  fromjmanifesting  any  gratitude 
•  for  this  act  of  generosity,  he  dreamed  no  longer  but  of 
Tengeance,  and  such  is  also  the  sotirce  of  his  profound  ani- 
madversion  against  our  glorious  Henry  IV.    After  the  as- 
sassination of  the  late  King  Henry  HI.,  I  espoused  the  carfse 
of  the  League  against  the  Be^mais,  and  the  Duke  de  Mer- 
coeur,  although  a  fervent  Catholic  secretly  promised  his 
support  to  the  Calvinists.  More  recently,  Mayenne  commi^ 
ted  an  irreparable  fault  in  order-  to  conceal  his  ambitious 
designs ;  he  caused  the  Cardinal  of  Bourbon  to  be  pro- 
claimed under  the  name  of  Charles  X.,  the  seventh  of  Au- 
gust, 1589.  Then,  seeing  i^to  what  an  abyss  of  evils,  anar- 
chy was  going  to  lead  ol|-  dear  France,  and  bearing  in 
mind  the  usurping  intentions  of  Philip  H.,  who,  under  the  ^ 
doak  of  religion,  looked  forward  to  nothing  less  than  the 
monarchical  unity  of  all  Europe,  and  the  degradation  of 
the  pontifical  throne,  I  united  myself  frankly  with  the  par- 
tisans of  Henry.    The  Duke  de  Mercceur,  on  the  other 
liaaa,  turned  about,  entered  into  a  coalition  against  that 


■  •  \ 


prince  with  the  Dukes  de  Longiieville,  do  Moptpensier, 
d'Eperon,  d'Aumont,  the  Baron  d'O,  anfl  proclaimed  to 
all  who  would  listen  to  him  that  I  was  a  renegade,  a  re- 
lapse, a  heretic.    But  it  was  in  vain,  that  he  distilled  his 
venom  of  calumny  to  alienate  from  me  the  affections  of  . 
the  vassals  of   Brittany;    my  prmciples  were  too  well 
known.    I  was  able  to  say  that  I  had  a  large  part  in  the 
abjuration  of  Henry  IV.  The  excommnnioation,  of  Gregory 
XIV.  did  not  frighten  me,  because  I  was  sure  to  gain  a 
soul  for  heaven,  and  a  good  sovereign  for  my  country.  And 
whenj:;iement  VII.,  yielding  to  the  solicitations  of  my^ 
friends,  D'Ossat  and  Duperron,  accorded  absolution  to  our 
well-beloved   king,  I   bleSsed  Providence  for  the  favor 
vouchsafed  to  France  by  the  .interposition  of  the  holy  pon- 
tiff.   But  the  jealousy  of  the  Duke  de  Mercoeur  increased 
with  all.  his  failures.    Furious  at  the  triumph  of  the  cause 
which  I  had  sustained,  he  tried  to  pass  himself  off  here  as 
the  heir  of  the  ancient  dukes,  plotted  with  Phihp  11.,  a^d 
refused  his  allegiance  to  Henry  IV.    However,  he  feared 
me,  and  not  daring  to  attack  me  openly,  he  disguises  him-  ^ 
self  to  attack  me  with  a  band  of  agpassins  at  the  comer  of 
a  wood.'* 
"  What !"  said  John  surprised,  "  it  was—** 
"  Hush  I    Let  tis  -  advance  nothing  which  we  can  not 
prove;  the  Church  forbids  it ;  and  we,  though  excited  by 
anger,  must  not  sin';  besides,  to-morrow  all  doubt  will  be 
removed.  But  to  conclude,  you  are  informed  of  the  hatred 
which  animates  the  Duke  de  Mercceur  against  our  house." 
L  J* That  Jiatred  I  despise,"  "firaptaly  excMmed  tiieyoung 
man. 


!m  .• 


10 
Do  la  Roche  shook  his  head  with  a  sombre  air. 

"The  duke  is  powerful,"  said  he,."too  powerfulP 
"  The  eredit  of  the  king  ?"  hazarded  the  equer^. 
^    "  The  credit  of  the  king  is.  without  influence  over  fanat- 
ics,  and  I  confess  I  apprehend ,  strongly  that,   notwith- 
standing  the  treaty  of  Vervins,  the  edict  of  Nantes,  of  th« 
13th  of  last  April,  an  edict  which  insures  to  the  Huguenots 
equity  of  powers,  honors,  and  dignities  with  the  Catho- 
hcsj^^ay  seem  wrong  to  the  court  of  Rome,  and  entangle 
France  in  new  religious  wars.    In  -a  word—" 

The  maVquis  passed  over  his  face  his  large  hand,  whicli' 
was  furrowed  by  a  wound, ,  .  " 

.  "In  a  word,"  he  re^fd,  « I  have  the  letters-patent 
which  confirm  me  in  the  office  of  lieutenant-general  of  Can- 
ada.  In  eight  days  we' shall  start  for  that  virgin  soil',  of 
which  so  many  wonders  are  told,  and  Laura  will  enter  the 
convent  of  Blois,  where  she  will  await  patiently  the  return 
of  her  betrothed.  If  I  succumb,  John,  you  will  protect 
her,  will  you  not?" 

"  Oh  I"  exclaiiiii^  the  young  man  with  wai 


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CHAPTER  IL 


■I  *  ■ 
It  was  noon.  Seated  in  a  large  sculptured  chair,  ILaura 
I  de  Kerskoeh,  lady  of  the  manor  o^  Vomadeck,  turned  over 
the  leaves  of  her  beautiful  missal,  printed  on  parchment 
and  embellished  with  miniatures  of  the  Byzantine  style  of 
art,  enriched  with  a  brilliant  case,  having  clasps  of  emboss- 
1  ed  gold,  with  an  Oriental  amethyst  at  the  centre,  encased 
in  a  silver  plate  afteT  the  manner  of  St.  Eloi,  goldsmith  of 
I  King  Dagobert. 

Laiira  jflftiKerskoen,  heiress  ofVomadeck,  was  at  the 
:^^f  illusions,  seventeen  simuncrs,  like  a  rosebud,  ready 
[  to  break  the  pod,  of  which  the  richness  of  its  colors  was 
jealous  of  the  sweetness  of  its  perfumes.  Nothing  so  pret- 
ty, and  at  the  same  time  so  mutinous,  as  her  counten^^nce, 
where  temerity  and  gentleness  harmonized  their  features. 
„  Opposite  to  this  yoraig  lady  sat  her  nurse,  Dame  Catha- 
nne,  a  native  of  Normandy,  who,  from  theijifanoy  of  Laura, 
L^at^  ^  placed  her  mother,  .1  —    .         :::^ 


T.      -I 


•M,       •) 


■% 


12 

«  Tell  me,  nurse,"  suddenly  asked  the  young  lady,  rest- 
.     ing  the  missal  on  her  knees,  "do  you  know  what  o'clock 
it  is  ?" 

« I  think  it  is  near  twelve,"  repUed  Catharine,  "for  I  hear 
the  bugle  sound  to  reUeve  the  guard  at  the  castle.  Pretty 
soon  our  good  Marquis  de  la  Roche-Gommard  will  be  home, 
with  his  amiable  equerry,  the  Lord  of  Ganay. ,  I  am  sure 
that  your  heart  pants  for  him.  Viscount  John  is  as  hand 
some  a  young  man  as  he  is  an  intreped  cavalier."  j 

A  slight  disdainful  smile  rose  to  the  lips  of  Laura,  who 
replied  after  a  minute : 

"  Were  you  not  speaking  this  morning  of  going  to  see 
the  fishergirl,  who  has  broken  her  leg?" 

J  Yes,  dear  girl ;  I  w^l  go  as  soon  as  the  great  heat  sub- 

Xfttofes." 

K  y  I  think  it  would  be  better  to  go  at  once.    If  my  uncle 
\and  guardian  come  home  in  the  afternoon,  it  will  hardly 
»Q  possible  to  quit  the  castle,  nurso,"     - 

kry  true,  my  daughter,  you  reason  like  an  angel ;  I 
will  goWd  get  my  mantle  and  immediately  bring  that 
poor  w(|man  the  herbs  and  potions  which  the  surgeon  has 
prescribed^* 

WhUe  saying  so,  the  old  dame  rose  from  her  seat  and 
started. 

^  «  Ah  I"  joyously  exclaimed  Laura,  as  she  heard  the  door 
of  the  apartment  close  after  her  "dudgne,"  as  she  caUed 
lier.  « Ah,  I  am-  then  ^ee  at  last  1  A  few  minutes  more 
and  perhaps  *  ♦  After  all,  Catharine  is  so  indulgent  to 


*^ 


^    '        13 

me  I  She  would  not  breaJthe  a  word  of  me  to  the  Marquis' 
de  la  Roche.  It  wiU  nofe  be  long  now  untU  he  comes,  and 
that  John  de  Ganay  ^h  him.  *  *  What  weariness!  But 
she  too  will  be  soon  here ;  she  wUl  come  before  them,  my 
gentle  messenger.    What  good  luck  1" 

Bounding  with  gayety,  the  niece  of  the  marquis  ran  to  a 
narrow  arch,  embellished  with  colored  glass,  and  raised  the 
lower  frame.  An  amorous  ray  of  the  sun  enveloped  her  at 
once  in  the  waves  of  its  brilliant  light,  and  extended  softly 
on  the  ground. 

For  twenty  minutes,  Laura,  with  hef  arms  resting  on  the 

Iwindow-stool,  mterrogated  the  extent  of  the  azure  vault, 

stripping  the  petals,  so  to  speak,  Of  an  adorable  medita- 

tion.  She  began  to  grow  impatient,  however;  when,  at  the 

North;  there  appeared  a  black  pomt. 

«  Addresse  I  my  dear  Addresse  I »  murmured  the  young 
ilady. 

The  point  enlarged  insensibly,  assumed  proportions,  a 
rorm  Blight  and  lank.  It  w^  a  pigeon  cutting  the  atmos- 
phere  with  its  wmgs.  It  approaches— it  approaches  I  Al- 
•eady  one  can  distinguish  its  white>|umj^e  and  its  slender 
leck,  ^ded  with  a  green  band.  " 

•♦  Ah  1  dear  Addresse,"  repeated  Laura  j  « then  it  is  you ; 
was  not  mistaken  1" 

Like  a  skilful  pilot,  examining  the  port  after  a  perilous 
oyage,  the  bird  redoubled  her  zeal  since  she  saw  the  beauti- 
ful head  of  Laura  extending  over  the  embrasure  of  the 
window.    It  had  passed  the  waU  of  the  castle,  and  glided 
l!^^  ^e^^emal  ramparts,  but  had  not  time  to  receive 


14 

the  reward  of  its  voyage,  when  suddenly  a  report  was 
heard,  and  ^e   young  lady  grew  pale,  then  uttered  a 
piercmg  cry.    However,  she  immediately  recovered  her 
presence  of  mind.    Then  she  projected  her  person  outside 
tie  wmdow-stool,  and  saw  the  bird  flapping  its  wings,  and 
entangled  in  the  foHage  of  a  moulding,  a  few  feet  above 
her.    Below,  on  the  waU,  were  soldiers  laughmg  loudly  and 
fehcitatmg  one  of  their  companions,  whose  murderous  arm  \ 
had  wounded  the  imiocent  creature.    Delighted  with  ««*:  j 
dexterity,  ihe  soldier  who  did  the  harm  laughed  louder 
than  the  rest;  but  at  the  sight  of  the  niece  of  their  lord 
all  were  sflent,  and  sdon  disappeared.    The  young  heiress 
could  then  without  the  fear  of  being  surprised,    Wer 
herself  more,  stretch  out  her  arm  and  seize  the  unfortunate 
pigeon;  she  took  it  softly,  drew  it  to  her,  and  returned  to 
her  seat. 

The  bird  had  its  thigh  broken.   Laura  could  not  restrain 
her  tears. 

"  Poor  thing !»  said  she,  in  broken  accents,  « it  wiU  never 
get  well." 

However   she  washed  the  womrd  carefully,  drew  from 

the  rnangled  Jesh  the  bloody  down  which  sullied  it,  and 

after  having  assm-ed  herself  that  the  lead  had  only  grazed 

some  secondary  tendons,  she  took  from  the  neck  of  the 

pigeon  a  green  ribbon,  and  brought  it  tenderly  to  her  bed. 

r..T  ^I'^^^y'^^SOod  Succor,"  said  she,  ^^have  pity  on  my 

ittle  Addressel    I  will  burn  in  your  honor  four  ikJe 

tapers  of  perfumed  wax,  and  give  a  beautiful  napkin  of 

Flanders  linen  for  your  altar,  if  you  will  preserve  her  to  me 


I  -  ^ 
"1  ■  ■,'■. 


a  report  was 
len  uttered  a 
recovered  her 
person  outside 
its  wings,  and 
"ew  feet  above 
ng  loudly  and 
lurderous  arm 
;hted  withld*^ 
tughed  louder 

of  their  lord 
'oung  heiress 
rised,  lower 
3  unfortunate 
i  returned  to 

I.  not  restrain 


15 

n  life  and  health,  or  else  put  to  death  the  scoundrel  of  a 

loldier  who  has  caused  her  death  1" 
This  invocation  bemg  ended,  Laura  de  Kerskoen  unroUed 

le  ribbon,  which  she  had  put  into  her  bosom,  introduced 

mto  a  bronze  decanter,  suspended  from  her  waist  by  a 
ihain  of  the  same  metal,  and  withdrew  it  at  the  end  of  five 
Ws.  The  original  color  had  disappeared;  it  was  brown 

K  marked  with  brown  characters.  In  the  twinkling  of  an 
We,  the  yomig  girl-  had  devoured  these  characters,  and  aU 
\er  members  trembled  with  fright. 

At  this  moment  the  somid  of  a  trumpet  awakened  the 
choes  of  the  manor.  Laura  precipitated  herself  to  the  win- 
fow,  her  eyes  riveted  on  the  esplanade  near  the  draw- 
Indge  of  the  principal  entrance. 

"The  Marquis  de  la  Roche  and  John  de  Ganay'"  ex 
lamied  she  in  a  fright.  "Holy  Vii-gin!  Beitrand  is  lostl'» 


it  will  never 


S  drew  from 
lUied  it,  and 
only  grazed 
nock  of  the 
'  to  her  bed. 
pity  on  my 


four  large   ■ 

* 

■--  4 

il  napkin  of  1 

■ 

e  her  to  me  1 

- 

J'  ■:>; 

1 

lAiia^itiJ^it^&ir'V' It  b    '-'i^^l 

t 

r^L  : .. . . 

» 

^...tlnh>^*,'.-.-.^Jtt^t       4-»i 

CHAPTER  ITL 

'( 

Bdtlt  on  the  plateau  of  an  abrupt  rock,  the  manor  ofJ 
Koche  was  one  of  the  most  redoubtable  fortresses  in  Britl 
tany.    Its  general  configuration  resembled  that  of  a  tr  J 
pezmm,  of  which  the  axis  was  directed  to  the  northwestl 
.        an4  of  which  the  small  side  extended  to  the  northeasj 
This  configuration  was  described  by  a  boundary  of  ram-^ 
parts,  with  an  elevation  of  thirty  feet.     In  the  rear  wa.1 
the   chateau    property   so    caUed.     Four   large    mnsi 
composed   of  cut  stone,  united  to  each  other  by  sj^ 
towers,  composed  it.    StiU  mo«,  to  the  rear,  at  the  Ltri 
of  a  vast  court,  rose  the  citadel  to  tiie  height  of  twenty! 
toises,  a  sort  of  octagonal  fortress,  surmounted  by  a  diadeJ 
of  projectm^  turrets.  It  was  here  tie  arms  and  munitionsf 
were  deposited,  and  where,  in  cases  of  necessity,  the  pri  J 
oners  of  war  were  confined  to  prevent  their  being  rescued 
A  deep  slopmg  ditch,  cut  in  the  solid  rock,  and  a  waU 
^  bHBthng  with  iron  spikes,  surrounded  the  forteesa  attk 


"■» 


17 

Rse.    Five  gates  led  to  it ;  the  two  first  situated  beneat;Ji 

I  vault  in  the  exterior  rampart,  and  separated  by  an  inter- 

Uaiate  portculKs,  or  herse;  the  two  following  being  in  the 

Ddy  of  the  inhabited  edifice,  equaUy  separated  by  an  inter- 

Udiate  portcullis;  and  the  fifth  placed  at  the  base  of  the 

brtress.    No  surrounding  ditch  protected  the  first  line  of 

Irtifications,  which  were  founded  on  perpendiaular  rocks, 

apossible  to  be  scaled.    One  could  arrive  at  the  chateau 

Jy  by  a  zigzag  path,  incrusted,  so  to  speak,  in  the  flank  of 

lie   mountam,  and  which  crossed  a  drawbridge,   under 

^hich  a  very  deep  well  had  been  made.    Two  masses  of 

ranite,  in  the  form  of  half  moons,  provided  with  numerous 

attlements  and  loop-holes,  defended  this  bridge. 

The  chateau  of  La  Roche  had  been  constructed  in  the 
leenth  century  by  Aymon  de  la  Roche  on  his  return  from 
ke  crusades.  To  this  it  is  needless  to  add  that  the  build- 
Ig  was  of  the  feudal  style  of  architecture. 

At  the  time  the  bugle  sounded,  an  archer  appeared 
the  platform  of  the  gate. 

"Brittany  and  Navarre!"  cried  the  marquis. 

Immediately  a  rattling  of  chains  on  rollers  was  heard, 
id  the  bridge  was  promptly  lowered.  The  cavalcade  en- 
ked,  the  Marquis  de  la  Roche  taking  the  lead.    Arrived 

the  court  of  honor,  he  halted,  gave  some  orders  concern- 
k  the  captive,  jumpe'a  from  his  horse,  and  made  a  sign  to 
He  equerry  to  follow  hun.  Taking  a  large  stairway,  they 
lescended  to  the  armory  and  penetrated  into  an  apartment 
Tf  the  narrowest  dimensions,  contiguous  to  the  hall.  This 
U  the  chamber ^^^e  M^qais  de  la  Roche-eommard.— 


y 


N 


18 


It   had   a   very   Bombro   and    very   austere   air;     o., 
might  easily  Jiave  mistaken  it  for  the  cell  of  a  dominicaJ 
Noting  to  gratify  the  eye.     The  furniture  cQusisted  o1 
a  camp-bed,  simply  covered  with  a  bear's  skin,  two  tables 
cojfered  with  books,  cards,  stools,  mathematical  andastr, 
nomical  instruments,  some  chests,  and  a  sealed  casket  ol 
the  white-washed  waU.   The  only  ornament,  worthy  of  aJ 
tention,  was  a  large  crucifix,  in  black  wood,  and  of  exquisit] 
purity  of  form.    It  was  said  that  this  crucifix  was  the  worl 
of  the  famous  Michael  Angelo,  wliich  had  been  taken  awa] 
from  thq  church  of  the  Holy  Spirit  at  the  time  of  the  civJ 
wars  m  Italy,  and  sold  for  a  hmidred  silver  marks  to  th] 
father  of  WiUiamde  la  Roche.  .'    . 

The  Marquis  took  a  s^^t,  and  drew  from  his  pocket-booli 

a  parchment,  sealed  with  the  arms  of  France  and  Navarre 

^e  glanced  over  the  contents,  while  John  de  Ganay  stood  J 

few  paces  distant,  in  a  respectful  attitude.    The  parchmej 

contamed  these  lines :  -  1 

«We,  Henry  the  Fourth,  of  the  name,  by  the  grace  o| 

God  Kmg  of  France  and  Navarre,  to  our  friend,  and  faithful 

subject  of  the  Mesgomiets,  chevalier  of  our  order,  comisell 

or  m  our  council,  and  captam  of  fifty  armed  men,  the  Lor/ 

-  de  la  Roche,  Marquis  de  Cotemmmeal,  Baron  de  Las  Vis. 

comit  deK:!aventon  et  ^St.  Lo,  in  Normandy,  Viscomit  d^ 

Travanet,  Lord  de  la  Roche-Gommard  and  Quermolac,  di 

Comae,  Benteguyno  et  Lescuit,  conformably  to  the  wilJ 

of  the   late   King  Henry  HI,  have  created  Lieutenant] 

General  of  the  country  of  Canada,  Hocheleja,  Newfound! 

land,  river  of  the  Great  Bay  Norembegne  and  the  lands 

adjacent,  on  th«  foUowing  conditions; 


-\ 


19 

"That  the  Lord  do  la  Roche  vnH  have  particularly  in 
kw  the  estabUshment  of  the  Catholio  faith;  that  Hs 
tthority  will  extend  over  aU  the  men  of  war,  both  on 
|a  and  land;  that  he  will  choose   the  captains,  masters 
vessels,  and  pilots ;  that  he  shaU  have  a  right  to  com-  • 
and  them  in  all  cases  which   he  may   deem  necessary, 
bile  they  can  not,   under  any  pretext,  refuse  to  obey 
that   he  may  put  the  ships  and  crews,  which  he 
feu  find  in  the  ports  of  France,  in  a  seaworthy  condi- 
bn,  raise  as  many  troops  as  he  may  wish,  to  make  war, 
lild  forts  and  cities,  give  them  laws  and  punish  their 
ansgressors  or  pardon  them;   grant  to  noblemen  fiefs, 
'ships,  manorsj  counties,  baronies,  and  other  dignities, 
bject  to   our  sovereignty,  according  as  he  may  deem' 
|ndncive  to  the  good  of  the  service,  and  to  the  others 
lower  condition  at  such  charge  and  annual  rent  as  it 
^y  please  him  to  impose,  but  from  which  they  will  be 
|empt  the   six  first  years,   and  longer,   if  he  deems  it 
cessary;  that  on  the  return  of  his  expedition,  he  can 
nde  between  those  who  made  the  voyage  with  him, 
|e  third  .of  aU  the  gains  and  profits,  retaining  another 
frd  for  himself,  and  employing  the  remaining  t^hird  to 
feet  the  expenses  of  the  war,  fortificaUons,  and  other  com- 
c»n  expenses;  that  aU  ihe  noblemen,  merchants,  and 
liers  who  will  accompany  him  at  their  own  expense,  or 
berwise,  can  do  so  U  full  hberty,  but  that  they  wiU 
Jt^be  permitted   to  carry  on  commerce  without   his 
-'ssion,  and  that  under  pain  of  the  confiscation  of  their 
Ips,  merchandise,  and  ojjier  effects ;  that  in  case  of  dis- 
•se  or  djathJie  cap,  fey  will  er  otherwise,  name  one  »  - 


20 

two  lioutonanta  to  tako  \m  place ;  that  he  will  have  the 
liberty  in  the  whole  kingdom  to  make  a  levy  of  workmen, 
and  other  men  necessary  for  the  success  of  his  enterprise ; 
finally,  that  he  will  enjoy  the  same  powers,  privileges,  im- 
munities, and  authorities  of  which  the  Lord  of  Roberval 
had  been  gratified  by  the  late  King  Francis  L 

"  Given  at  our  palace  of  the  Louvre,  in  our^good  city  of 
Paris,  this  second  day  of  January,  of  the  year  ^f  grace  one 
thousand  five  hundred  and  ninety-eight,  and  of  our  reign 
the  ninth. 

Signed, 

"  HKNEY    OI*  FBAXCB  AND  OP  ITAVABBE."  * 

"  John,"  s^d  the  marquis,  when  he  had  concluded  the 
reading.  V 

*'  Monseigneur  I" 

*'  You  have  read  the  narrative  of  James  Cartier  ?'* 

The  equerry  nodded  affirmatively. 

"  And  you  are  still  resolved  to  accompany  me  ?"  added 
William  da  la  Roche,  closely  scrutinizing  the  yonng  man. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  Replied  the  equerry  without  hesitation. 

"The  perils  and  dangers  don't  frighten  you ?" 


*It  will  be  nnderstoodthat  the  letter,  which  y^e  have  ^ven  here, 
is  but  a  very'««iccinct  abridgment  of  that  i^hich  granted  to  Wil- 
liam de  la  Boche  the  Lieutenancy  of  Canada.  To  have  given  the 
letter  entire  w^uld  have  been  a  8l^e^fluity,  which  would  bo  in- 
jurious to  tho  (framatlo  iutorcet  of  aur  recital. 


Ui».*i«V*-* 


21 

J I  We  descended  from  a  &mHy  in  which  the  term  fear 
h«  ^o  me^ang.    On  our  coat  of  am,,  ia  engraved  'aZ- 

be^d  u,hmheU  mgaged  in  a  noble  enteT>ri8e  " 

|«je.    But  you  understand  the  object  of  oJ..^ 

j    "  To  found  a  colony." 

/.  " ""^ '"■"'^""•"PM  tie  marqnla  warmly.    "Oh  it 
-otaUI    Isayitiatheleastindlnent,    My  so^^e 

We  to  propagate  the  doctrines  which  Jesus  Christ^nr 
Savour,  ,^,^  ^  ,^^  ^^^^  ^o^ 

.^rry  the  torch  of  truth  into  the  midst  of  ignorant  and  idol- 
atroua  people,  who  mhabit  the  forests  of  North  America  ■ 

wemust  work  outoarown  salvation,  ,0  merit  heavenmoon! 
vertrngU^elndianstoour  religion  1  we  must  "(PeiaEoTe 
lowers  h,s  voice)-,  prevent,  the  heretios-the  iuguenots- 
you  understand  me,  John-from  distilling  on  New  Prance 
the  venom  of  their  lying  dogmas,  as  they  have  already  tried 
to  do  at  Charlefort,  at  the  instigation  of  CoUgny  r 

A&er  this  sortie,  dictated  by  the  religious  fanaticism  of 
the  to^  De  la  Eoohe  inclined  his  head  on  his  breast,  and 
mdulged  m  profbrnad  meditation.  Bit  if  he  had  cast  his 
^es  on  ks  eq„er,7,  hrf  would  havi  been  Surprised  at  the 
Aange^he  had  m,dergone  in  a  few  minutes.  John  de  Gan! 
ay  was  pale  to  lividness;  his  features  contracted;  his 
muscles  trembled,  he  seemed  to  combat  *ith  himself  a;airt 
htter  «.ger.  faripusiy  bit  hi.  )ips,  ..  jf  ^  ,^^^ 


J.  22 

vordsf'that  flowed  to  his  lips.  By  degrees^  however,  he 
recovered  his  self-control,  so  that,  ^en  the  marquis,  had 
got  over  hlfl  revery,  he  was  calm,  or  at  least  seemed  s<^ 

"  You  understobd  me  ?"  asked  the  Marquis  de  la  Jloche. 

"I  di^'Wdly  rep^ed  John. 

"  And  you  will  come,  the  cross  in  one  hand  and  the  hoe 
in  the  other,  and  if  I  succumb — ^'*  "  ;^ 

"I  will  undertake  the  accomplishment  of  your  la^ 
wishes." 

"  Matk  you,  John,"  ssdd  the  marquis,  rising,  and  taking 
the  hand  of  the  viscount,  which  he  found  moist  and  cold  : 
"thank  you,  you  will  one  day  be- the  glory  of  Chris- 
tianity." •  W/. 

De  Ganay  retired,  and  William  de  -la  Roche  vfQtA  to 
prostrate  himself  before  huhsrucifiz. 


X  I  -ij-l  i  ■,»,  '  w  -.;«;  .li 


•vm^'^"':" 


■■-'m 


i    ' 


CHAPTER  rV. 


THE     XJN-OI.E 


J^NT>    HIS    NIECE. 


.    Lauka  de  Kerskogn  was  again  seated  in  her  chair,  ab- 
Borbed  in  thought. 

_  -«  What  folly  I  to  write  me  that  he  wiU  come  this  even, 
ing  I    Did  I  hot  teU  him  that  I  expected  my  uncle  ?    But 
what  signify  these  words :  '  Fear  nothing,  my  precautions 
are  weU  taken ;  to-morrow,  if  you  wish,  we  shaU  be  uniteJi 
bymdissoluble  ties.'    Oh,   I  tremble  I  What  am  I  to  do? 
Dear  Bertrand!  he  is  capable  of  aU-he  loves  me  so  much  I 
Why  is  it  that  a  mortal    enmity  divides  our  parents? 
But  no,  no  I    I  shaU  never  be  the  wife  of  any  man  in  the 
world  but  him  I    eh,  I  would  rather  berry  myself  in  a 
cloister  I  Is  not  my  love  just,  is  it  not  legitimate?  Do  I  not 
owe  my  existence  to  this  brave  champion  ?   Where  should 
I  be  without  him,  good  St.  Mary?    At  the  peril  of  his  life 
he  rescued  me  from  the  flames  which  devoured  the  con- 
vent of  my  aunt.    How  handsome  he  is,  how  brave  1   And 
yet  so  timid  with  me  I  confronting  every  danger,  in  order 


-kF 


\  24     .        • 

to  come  and  respire  one  instant  under  the  window  of  l^fl 
queen  1  What  a  difference  between  him  and  that  John  de 
Ganay,  whose  assiduities  importune  me !  Besides^  what' can 
the  Marquis  de  la  Roche  think  of  him  ?  ho  seems  to  me  not 
a  loyal  Catholic,  the  Burgundian.  -I  cease  to  think  of  him, 
fifter  I  have^made  the  sign  of  the  cross,  and  he  always  finds 
flome  pretext  for  not  being  present  at  the  holy  sacrifice  of 
the  mass.  On  the  contrary,  "Bertrand  mover  fails  to  be 
present.  Every  Sunday,  disguised  as  a  serf,  I  see  him 
piously  humbled  in  a  corner  of  the  village  church,  where 
I  go  regularly  since  the  death  of  our  worthy  chaplain.  ♦  • 
To  come  this  evening,  whafr  imprudence  I  Would  that  I 
could  warn  him  I  Impossible,  Addresse  is  too  seriously 
wounded !  What  resource  then  I  Would  that  I  knew  where 
he  is  I'  *  •  And  that  equerry  who  is  strolling  incessantly 
on  the  ramparts,  telling  the  Marquis  de  la  Roche  to  double 
the  guards,  because  that — because  that — Bad  plan,  bad 
plan ;  my  uncle  would  suspect  at  once.  What  fatality  1 
Some  magician  has  made,  a  charm,  that's  sure.  *  ♦  I  must 
implore  the  aid  of  my  merciful  patroness  1" " 

Having  formed  this  design,  the  devoted  young  lady  ran' 
to  kneel  before  her  crucifix.  While  tbuB  prostrated,  Wil- 
liam de  la  Roche  entered,  without  interrupting  her.  Not 
wishing  to  trouble  her  meditations,  he  was  about  to  retire, 
for  tie  rigid  guardian  was  far  from  suspecting  that  it  was 
ft  mundane  thought — a  tiionght  of  a  disobedient  'lover, 
which  thus  absorbed  the  attention  of  his  ward ;  but  sud- 
denly the  latter  exclaimed : 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  thank  you,  happy  patroness,  you  have 
granted  my  petitions ;  he  is  saved  1"  "  ■        ■ 


A- 


tiE. 


f^'tf'^^m-^'v^^^ 


25  .    .        "^ 

"  Who  is  this  ?"  asked  the  mar(juis. 
«  Monseigaeur  de  la  Roche,"  stammered  Laura 
"Well,  dear  child,  is  it^s  you  receivdyour  uncle,  after 
an  absence  of  two  ndonths?'* 

*'Pardon,  pardon," said  J^aura,  blushing.    "I ♦» 

aTou  did  not  expect  niVhaughty  ^irl,"  replied  William, 
tenderly  kissmg  her  forehead.  «*But,  thank  heaven  we 
have  returned  safe  and  sound,  and  all  is  ready  for  our  ap- 
proaching  departure  I"        *  ^ 

"  Your  approaching  departdrel"  .       ' 

.  «  Ah,  my  friend,you  tremble  because  I  take  with  me  the 
object  of  your  thoughtsi    John  de  Ganay  will  accompany 
me  to  New  France.  There,  do  not  grieve,  my  Laura ;  do  not 
Jower  your  eyes  to  conceal  your  affliction.    I  promise  to 
return  hmi  to  you  in  a  year,  at  Most." 
"But,  monseigneur -" 

"But  what,  mademoiselle?"  said  he,  sitting  down  and 
takmg  her  on  his  knee. 
"But » 

"Since J  promise  to  return  him  to.  you,  you  are  not 
gomgtobejealousofyouroldmicle.  ITxe  separation  wiU 
Wy  you  both,  and  you  wiU  like  me  aU  the  better  for 
havmg  kept  you  asunder  some  time.  You  will  pass  your 
Widowhood  mider  the  abbess  of  the  monastery  of  Blois." 

"But,  uncle,"  said  the  yomig  lady,  who  recovered  by  de- 
grees  from  her  emotion,  "have  you  not  told  me  that  you 
had  deferred  the  project  of  founding  a  colony  at  New 


.*(■ 


'*> 


h' 


2f    ./ 

"Ah  I"  replied  the  marquis,  smiling,  "it  is  less  my  pro 
•  ject  of  colonization  than  the  colonist,  whom  I  take  with  me, 
that  calls  forth  this  insidious  question." 

"You  hafe  then  obtained  yonr  letters-patent  ?"  said  she, 
with  an  agitation  which  escaped  the  attention  of  her  inter- 
locutor. 

"iBetter  still,"  replied  he,  "I  have  escaped  the  trap 
which  had  been  set  for  me  by  the  DukQ  de  Mercceur." 

Laura  started. 

"Dear  child,"  said  De  la  Roche,  pressing  her  affection- 
ately to  his  bosom ;  "  you  will  pardon  me  for  leaving  you, 
but  the  voice  of  God  speaks  to  my  conscience — I  must  go. 
A  new  Peter  the  Hermit,  I  bear  the  banner  of  the  Roman 
Church  in  the  midst  of  infidels,  and  soon  the  opposite 
shores  of  the  Atlantic  will  ring  with  the  praises  of  the  All- 
Powerful.  Courage,  my  daughter  I  Offer  your  90UI  to  God, 
this  will  aid  you  to  support  this  trial" 

Laura  was  sensible.  Brought  up  by  William  de  la 
Roche,  who  had  spoiled  her,  she  cherished  him  as  a  father. 
If  the  long  expeditions  of  her  guardian  had  never  fright-, 
ened  her,  at  that  epoch  of  civil  wars,  tjio  idea  of  a  voyage 
across  the  Ocean  to  countries  supposed  to  be  much  more 
distant  than  they  really  were — this  idea,  we  say,  could  not 
fMi  to  make  her  sad.  She  burst  into  tears.  Persuaded 
that  these  tears  had  his  equerry  for  their  object  much  more 
than  himself  William  tried  to  console  her  with  caresses. 
Tten,  imagining  that  he  supplied  a  sovereign  baha  for  the. 
grief  of  his  niece,-  he  said,  when  withdrawing : 


1   H  w^vwr- 


^Hr- 


■:.     ,    27  --  ■  \ 

«  Never  mind,  my  child ;  dry  your  tears.    Yon  will  be 
betrothed  before  we, embark." 

As  soon  as  he  had  left  the  room,  Laura  tapped  three  times 
on  a  gong  with  a  silver  wand.    Her  waiting-maid,  a  young 
courteous,  and  handsome  Picardian  appeared.  /       * 

"Luzette,  who  i^  the  "sergeant  of  the  guard  at  the  gate 
of  the  chateau?"  The  abigail  turned  her  eye  with  aknow- 
ing  air  and  replied : 

,    "ItisGoUathl"       '  ' 

«  Go  down  to  the  office,  and  tell  the  butler  not  to  forget 
his  post  to-night.    You  understand  me  I" 
"MademoiseUe  wiU  be  obeyed,"  said  Luzette,  bowing. 
"Ah,  I  am  indisposed^I  will  not  go  to  supper  1" 
Luiette  made  a  second  bow  and  retired. 
"By  this  means," exclaimed  the  niece  of  the  marquis, 
perhaps  I  may  succeed  in  securing  his  safety." 


<» 


CHAPTER  V.     ' 


TECE:     TROTJB -A.UOTJR. 


"  Come,  Sergeant  Goliath,  another  glass  of  that  gener- 
ous cider  with  which  we  have  been  gratified  by  the  noble 
Laura  de  Kerskoen." 

"Fill  up,  fill  up,  Hare-Ear,  for  by  the  good  day  my 
tongue  is  as  dry  as  charcoal,  and  my  stomach  resounds  like 
an  empty  barrel." 

"A  brave  demoiselle  is  our  young  lady  of  the  manor!" 
added  Hare-Ear,  filling  a  wooden  porringer,  which  he 
handed  to  the  sergeant. 

"By  my  life,  you  speak  truly,"  replied  the  latter;  *'a 
brave  demoiselle,  without  doubt!"  He  raised  the  goblet 
to  his  lips :  but  suddenly  he  stopped,  and  cocked  his  oar. 

"What's  the  matter,  Goliath?  It  would  seem  that  you 
hear  something." 

"  Surely  I  do,  by  jmgo  I  hear—.    Don't  you  hear  ?" 


29 

By  the  half-open  door  of  the  guard-house  the  evening 
breeze  bears  these  weU-knowu  words,  chanted  in  slow  and 
harmonious  style : 

,*  •  •  • Li  Bretons 

•  Jadia  souloUent  par  prouesce, 
Des  aventures  qu*  ils  oioient 
Faire  des  lais  par  remembrance 
Lu'on  ne  les  mist  en  oubliance  ...  '" 

«  Oh,  oh,  by  jbgo,  this  announces  to  us,  if  I  don't  very 
much  mistake,  the  jovial  troubadour  who  has  given  us  so 
much  solace  and  pleasure  of  late.  This  will  be  a  precious 
,  wmdfall  for  us  to  receive  bto  our  chamber.  He  wiU  recount 
,^.  to  us  the  valiant  histories  of  the  >ave  Americans,  and  wiU 
not  faU  to  relate  to  us  once  more  the  marvelous  adven- 
tures of  the  ChevaHer  Bertrand  of  Guesclin." 

«  And  also  the  expedition  of  the  four  sons  of  Montglave  » 
said  Hare-Ear.  «At  1*e,end  of  .winter,  when  the  pleasant 
weather  of  feAnmer  commences,  and  one  sees  the  trees  flou- 
rish  and  the  flowers  bud." 

«  Not  so  fast,  comrade-not  so  fast  I»  mterposed  a  third 
halberdier;  « let  us  haste  and  make  merry— that's  all  very 
weU,  but  let  us  enforce  the  countersign.  The  alarm  is 
sounded.'* 

«  Oh,  that's  but  a  sman  affair,"  said  Goliath.  *'  Let  our 
gallant  minstrel  be  introduced.    I  will  answer  for  alL" 

"No,  indeed,  sergeant;  no,  indeed,"  replied  the  other 
obstinately;  "you  wiU  answ«r  perhaps  with  your  neck. 
That's  your  affair;  but  my  intention  is  not  to  neglect  on 
any  account  the  duties  for  which  I  am  responsible." 


M: 


0 


80 

**  By  Jupiter,  it  is  my  opinion,  old  whiner,  Balafi^,  that 
you  will  not  be  satisfied  until  I  cool  your  blood  with  the 
balm  of  my  steel." 


BalafiS  was  going  to  rot6rt,btttone  of  the  halberdiers 
handed  him  the  porringer,  which  still  continued  to  go  the 
rounds.  The  perfume  of  the  sp^kling  liquor  appeased  the 
wrath  of  th§  trooper,  and  after  having  drunk,  he  said : 

"  At  all  events,  do  as  you  like ;  I  will  wash  my  hands 
out  of  it  as  Pontius  Pilate  did  on  the  occasion  of  pronounc- 
ing judgment  against  our  Redeemer." 

II  0 

"Sy  jingo,  you  are  right  in  consenting '» 

"But,  sergeant,"  objected  some  of  the  soldiers,  "if  our 
redoubtable  master,  the  Marquis  de  la  Roche,  came  to  know 
that  we  had  received  a  stranger  in  our  guard-house.* 

"  By  my  Kfe,  who  would  dare  to  tell  him  ?  has  he  a  spy 
among  us?" 

.  This  interrogation  imposed  silence  on  the  rduotant.  For 
thefrestjthe  song  of  the  troubadour  1^  as  so  poetical,  so  har- 
mmiions,  that  it  would  have  softened  a  rock.  At  this  mo- 
•  ment  he  began  to  sing  the  old  romance  of  Brittany,  of 
which  Thibault,  Count  de  Champagne,  has  left  Us  a  trans- 
lation,— accompanying  himself  on  his  fiddle : 


Las!  si  j'avais  pouvoir  d'  oublier 
Sa  beauts,  sa  beauts,  son  bien  dire, 
Et  scm  tr6s-doux,  tris-doux  regarder, 
Flnirait  mon  martyi%. 


'^^^^^^^^;w-' 


31 

"There  are  not  two  throats  like  that  in  all  the  world, by 
jingo ;  it  is  that  of  our  bard ;  he  will  not  sleep  at  the  tav- 
ern,  if  for  that  act  of  charity  I  were,  to  be  flogged  with 
rods  until  the  blood  began  to  flow.  There,  send  for  the 
sentinel." 

In  a  few  minutes  the  sentry  arrived  in  the  guard-room 
of  the  chateau  De  la  Roche,  where  this  scene  passed. 

"Ah,  *tis  you,  Courtevue,'*  said  Goliath,  "who  has  been 
singmg  at  sitoh  an  hbun  under  the  walls  of  the  chateau  ?" 
"  The  American  troubadour." 
"Alone.'*     •  ... 

"Alone,  sergeant.?' 

"Xet  the  bridge  be  lowered,  by  Jupiter !  we  have  still  a 
pitcher  full,  and  we  will  spend  a  pleasant  night.''» 

After  these  words,  the  commander  of  the  post  went  out 
to  meet  the  host  that  chance  brought  him. 

The  enormous  pannel  of  thick  planks  describe^d  slowly 
its  quarter  of  a  circle,  and  re-covered  the  well  which  was  at 
the'entrance  of  the  fortifications. 

"Quivive?''  cried  Goliath,  perceiving  a  shadow  cross 
the  darkness  of  night.  In  response  to  his  query  he  received 
this  stanza: 


« 


Pour  dfl)duclier,  par  un  doux  stylo, 
Pemme  ou  flUe  de  bon  maintien, 
Point  ne  faut  de  vieille  subtile, 
Frire  Lubin  le  fera  bien." 


^ 


82r  '■■     '^* 

"  Is  it  yon,  by  jingo,  my  bard  ?'»    Squatted  befpir^  the' 
bridge,  thp  shade  continued  its  ballad : 

»      ■  '■ 

"  Je  presche  en  th^ologien ; 

Mais  poixr  boire  de  belle  eau  claire, 

'    Faites-la  boire  a  votre  chien :  , 

Frtre  Lubin  ne  le  peut  Mre." 

"Ah,  bravo  I  bravo !"  exclaimed  Goliath, 'wringing  bis 
hands.  "  Come,  my  gay  nightingale,  you  will  pump  at  an- 
other reservoir,  than  a  cold  fountain.  And  by  the  horns 
of  the  devil " 

Ik 

But  before  he  had  finished  tMs  phrase,  ten  vigorous  fin- 
gers  pressed  his  neck  with  their  steel  muscles^  a'poignard 
was  placed  at  his  breast,  and  he  fell  into  the  well  without, 
uttering  even  a  sigh,  ^  .        .  ^ 


:-\ 


:^, 


4l 


CHAPTER  VL    * 

THBJ     ATTACK. 

DtmiNG  this  -time  Viscount  de  Ganay  promenaded  on  the 
rampart,  as  weU  to  assure  himself  thatthe  sentinels  were  at 
their  posts  as  to  meditate. 

The  weather,  deUghtful  in  the  morning,  became  gloomy 
m  the  afternoon,  and  at  this  moment  the  dark  heavy 
x5louds  glided  lazily  through  the  sky.  The  darkness  was 
profound ;  hut  A  short  intervals  a  dijpling  flash  tore  with 
sloping  flame  the  thick  mantle  of  the  firmament,  and  iUu- 
minated  the  hjgh  towers  of  the  chateau.  * 

No  breezedisturbed  the  air  j  one  respired  a  thick  atmo- 
sphere, charged  with  electricity. 

In  the  distance  the  sea  roared,  breaking  its  waves 
against  the  beach,  and  betimes  the  hoarse  cry  of  the 
screech-owl  also  disturbed  the  silence  pf  the  night* 

The  equerry  felt  himself  overwhehned  with  sadness. 


'  rfiM'.-u.'i'j 


^'i 


84 

"She  has  not  come  to  meet  me,"  thought  he;  «  she  has 
not  presided  at  supper,  under  pretext  -of  indisposition;  an4 
yet,  I  am  pretty  sure,  I  have  seen  her  at  the  window  when 
the  marquii  caused  the  bugle  to  be  sounded  for  lowering 
the  drawbridge.  It  is  strange  I  Could  I  be  deceived? 
Has  she  not  loved  me?  Not  to  love  me!  Oh,  it  is  im- 
possible 1  A  hundred  times  I  have  spoken  to  her  of  my 
love;  never,  it  is  true,  has  she  avowed  me.  What  an  im- 
penetrable mystery  is  the  heart  of  a  woman  I  Ahl  Istox 
foolish  to  make  myself  weary;  is  it  not  she  that' sprigged 
the  scarf  I  wear  round  my  waist  ?  Is  it  not  she  that  has  • 
given  it  to  me?  Still  these  cursed  suspicions!  Eh,  who 
would  she  love  then  ?  Since  she  left  the  convent  she  has 
remained  at  the  chateau,  neither  receiving  nor  seeing  any- 
body.   Bah,  I  am,  indeed,  foolish  to — '• !  What's  this? 

It  seems  to  me  that  some  one  c^s." 

John,  who  happened  to  be  beneath  the  window  of  Laura, 
raised  his  head.  This  window,  we  have  omitted  to  say, 
opens  towards  the  south,  opposite  the  outside  gate' of  the 
inanor. 

"Bertrand,  is  it  you?"  said  a  voice.  The  viscount  made 
a  vain  attempt  to  pierce  the  obscurity  which  enveloped 
him  with  its  opaque  folds;  nothing;  he  distinguished 
nothing  I 

Nevertheless,  he  was  abdut  to  reply,  when  suddenly  the 
west  was  in  a  blaze  of  phosphorescent  light,  followed  by  a 
formidable  rolling  of  thunder,  and  a  cry  of  terror. 

"Laura  de  KerskoSn,"  murmured  De  Ganay,  who  had 
seen  the  young  lady  crouching  at  the  window. 


'■^-'■S*'^"='i  ■*>,  rvv/TTO 


"".,":-     ..    »-   .■    ■■    ■'■ 

But  Before  he  was  able  to  account  to  himself  for  the  im- 
pre8sio.tf  pade  up(in  km  by  this  incident,  the  celestial  fire 
had  vanished,  darkness  had  resumed  its  place,  nsurped 
only  for  a  moment,  and  a  second  cry,  vigorous,  wUd,  e^. 
citmg,  disturbed  the  echoes  of  the  manor  : 

«  Attention !  attention  I  -  To  arms  I  to  arms  ?* 

"What's  this?"  asked  John  of  an  archei-  that  passed 
near  him. 

«  The  chateau  is  invested  I  the  chajeau  is  invested !»  re- 
pUed  the  latter,  running  as  fast  as  his  legs  could  carry  him. 

Without  troubling  himself,  the  equerry  ran  towards  the 
upper  guard-house,  where  was  deposited  the  handle  for 
raising  and  lowering  the  portcullis.  The  greatest  confusion 
reigned  among  the  soldiers. 

"Lower  the  herse!"  cried  the, viscount      , 
.    -"But  the  enemy  has  ah-eady  passed  the  fortifications,'' 
observed  one  of  the  guards.       K  ' 

"  No  matter  I  no  matter !  Let  his  retreat  be  cut  off.'» 
And  while  the  soldiers  hastened  to  obey  this  order,  John 
ran  to  the  staircase,  which  led  to  the  gate  of  the  chateau 
proper.  It  debouched  on  the  southern  part  of  the  trape- 
2ium ;  the  equerry  pressed  his  steps  in  that  direction ;  but, 
quickly  as  he  went,  he  was  outstripped  by  the  assailants 
who  rushed  tumultuously  towards  the  drawbridge. 

Already  the  noise  of  the  attack  was  heard  all  over.  The 
big  clock  of  the  fortress  sounded  the  alarm.  Aroused  from 
sleep,  the  garrison  mustered  into  line,  and  made  prepara- 
tions  tor  defence,  while  the  marqtus^terrupted  in  the 


I  / 


88 

middle  of  his  prayer  by  the  first  rumors,  precipitated  him- 
self into  the  court,  where  he  was  soon  joined  by  the  elite 
of  his  men.  He  was  informed  that  a  band  of  unknown 
persons  had  surprised  and  massacred  the  external  guard. 

"Raise  the  bridge,  close  the  gates,"  said  he  with  the 
greatest  coolness.  "Let  a  company  proceed  to  the  plat- 
form, another  to  the  towers,  and  let  the  women,  children, 
and  domestics  be  confined  in  the  fortress." 

Immediately,  without  loss  of  time,  he  proceeded  to  the 
chamber  of  his  niece,  in  order  to  take  her  to  a  place  of 
safety,  for  the  apartment  which  she  occupied  during  peace 
served  as  an  intrenchment  for  a  detachment  of  archers 
when  the  fortress  was  besieged.  But  judge  of  the  astonish- 
ment of  the  marquis  1  The  chamber  of  Laura  de  Kerskoen 
was  empty. 

It  was  not  •  the  time  to  inquire  into  the  motives  of  the 
disappearance  of  the  young  lady,  since  every  second  that 
passed  aggravated  the  common  danger.  Suppressing  his 
anguish,  De  la  Roche  flew  to  the  salient  gallery  which 
projected  pver  the  gate,  of  the  chateau. 

A  troop  of' men  were  there  assembled;  some  rained 
stones  on  the  heads  of  the  assailants  j  some  shells ; 
others  boiling  oil;  others  used  cannon,  mortars,  etc., 
while  archers  and  musketeers,  posted  at  the  port-holes  of 
the  neighboring  towers,  riddled  the  enemy  with  arrows 
and  balls. 

The  scene  was  frightful,  the  combat  sad  as  the  tempest 
wiuch  roared  in  the  distance  I  By  the  hazy  hght  of  i^me 
resin  torches,  frequently  eclipsed  by  the  lightning  the  eye 


/ 


■  V. 


<^      i         MUl^-at    J 


-  ■■  n.-,-^l^ 


,..         f-^  ^-..r.J,^^,pf:^-^n|^^ 


— iTfgr-ati'ltiiniiMii 


ll 


87 

caught  the  shadows  of  men  running  here  and  there,  through- 
out the  extent  of  the  bmlding,  between  the  interior  counter- 
scarp and  the  earthworks  of  the  J  rampart.  Then  were 
heard  ferocious  cries,  moanings,  imprecations,  and,  sur- 
mounting  aU,  the  solemn  voice  of  the  thunder  rumbling  in 
the  distance. 

The  agressors  had  time  to  break  the  chains  of  the  draw- 
bridge before  the  alarm  could  be  given,  and,  no'twithstand- 
ing  theipro^ctiles  of  aU  kinds  poured  on  them  by  the  de- 
fenders of  tlD  chateau,  they  attempted  resolutely  to  force 
the  gate. 

An  enormous  plank  which  they  had  found  on  the  glacis, 
served  them  for  this  purpose. 

Twenty  robust  men,  placed  at  the  sides  of  the  plank, 
sustained  it  on  their  extended  arms,  and  gave  it  a  see  saw 
movement  in  d^^ing  itp  extremity  against  the  gate,  which 
made  a  great  noi^e  at  each  stroke  of  the  formidAble  ram. 

"Forward I  forward  I  Come,  come,  my  braves  I"  vo- 
ciferated a  chevaUeis  armed  to  the  teeth,  whose  hehnet, 
adorned  with  a  black  plume,  and  who  comm^ded  this 

mob  of  d^nons. 

"^ 

"Courage  I  courage K'  exclaimed  in  turn  William  dela 
Roche,  who,  having  seized  a  swivel  giin,  fired  incessantly  on 
the  enemy. 

But  notwithstanding  the  valor  of  the  besieged,  notwith- 
stAnding  the  streams  of  boiling  pitch  which  they  poured  on 
the  enemy,  the  latter  did  not  hesitate  for  a  moment. 
Wounded  and  dead  were  thrown  into  the  ditch;  new 
hands  replaced  them  immediately^and  the  improvised  ram 


'{ 


»•« 


.  1        88 

did  not  ceasa  Shatter  at  the  obstacle  which  they  desired 
to  upset.-   One  of  the  hinges  of  the  gate  had  given  way  • 
the  others  could  nbt  hold  out  long.    The  enemy  was  bol! 
lowing  victory,  when  WilUam  de  la  Roche  exclaimed : 
"  Throw  the  thunderboltr* 

^  The  "thunderbolt"  was  a  monstrous  ninety-six-pounder, 
pointed  at  the  angle  of  the  platform. 

AU  tjhe  men  around'  the  marquis  commenced  the  work 
tod  aftbr  some  unheard-of  efforts,  the  colossal  of  bronze* 
was  thrown  fr^  the  top  of  the  gaUery  on  the  human 
surge  that  struggled  below. 

First,  there  was  a  horrible  crackling ;  then  an  exchma- 
tion  of  pain  and  terror. 

The  bridge  was  broken,  and  aH  who  were  on  it  were  pre- 
cipitated into  t^e  ditch  below. 

Then  a  panic  ran  through  the  ranks  of  the  eriemyT  Those 
who  were  n^rest  wished  to  run ;  but,'  driven  back  by  those 
most  distant,  who  desired  to  take  part  in  the  action,  they 
fell  pell-mell  mto  the  ditch,  where  they  were  torn  and 
lacerated  by  the  spikes  of  iron  which  garnished  the  scarp 
A  large  number  were  killed  in  this  struggle,  and  the  be- 
sieged  availed  themselves  of  the  confusion  by  plying  their 
adversaries  with  grape. 

An  impetuous  wmd  had  arisen,  chasing  the  clouds  tow- 
ards the  east.  Between  the  streaks  made  by  their  disper- 
sion, the  moon  now  exhibited  her  sUvery  disk,  and  anon 
replunged  herself'  behind  an  impenetrable  curtain.  These 
ffactuations  of  light  and  shade  imparted  to  the  siege  of 
the  chateau  cdors  truly  fantastic  ,         *'-ii> 


t 
1 

s 

V 

t( 


r 


ai 

so 
no 


th( 


r 


«9 

Meantime,  the  chevaHer  with  the  black  plume  had  snc 
ceeded  m  re-establishing  order  among  his  followers.    They 
retreated ;  but  at  the  moment  when  they  reached '  the  gate 
a  troop  of  musketeers,  which  John  do  Ganay  had  got  to- 
gether  in  haste  on  the  rampart,  made  a  violent  attack  on 
them.     The  musketeers,  contrary  to  their  expectations, 
were  received  with  an  intrepidity  which  compelled  them 
to  return.    The  viscount  made  a  fruitless  attempt  to  stimu- 
late  their  ardor ;  they  would-Hsteu  to  nothing,  but  dispersed 
m  every  direction,  incapable  of  resisting  the  onset  of  those 
whom  they  had  supposed  they  could  out  to  pieces. 

TrembUng  with  indignation,  Viscount  de  Ganay  was 
gomg  to  precipitate  himself  into  tte  midst  of  the  struggle 
to  perish  sword  in  hand,  when\  he^rceived  the  chevalier 
with  the  black  plume. 

To  strike  two  men  who  interrupted  his  passage,  and  to 
seek  out  the  chief  of  this  cowardly  expedition,  was  but  the 
work  of  a  moment  for  our  brave  equerry. 

"Between  us  bothi"  exclaimed^e,  extending  hi» sword 
to  stop  his  antagonist. 

"Are  you  a  chevalier ?" 

"Yes,  I  gained  my  spurs  at  the  blockade  of  Paris." 
Immediately  their  swords  crossed,  cracked,  and  strucK 
a  thousand  sparks  out  of  each  other,  and  the  trumpet  re- 
sounded, announcing  a  mom«>ntary  truce,  in  order  that  the 
noble  combatants  might  be  allowed  full  liberty. 

For  an  arena  they  had  the  Uttle  esplanade  in  the  rear  of 
the  principal  gate;  for  a  light  the  moon,  which  shone  at     ' 


m 


s 


■Hj^R^p 


V-) 


''9 


0 


m"  ff 


40  ^    ,         • 

this  moment  above  the  scene  of  the  combat  j  for  witnesses 
a  oirole  of  soldiers. 


W^^^0> 


■%^ 


: 

1 

J 

the 

' 

w  - 

I 

m 

wh] 
son 

i> 

t 

- 

; 

lii'::'.,r'^' 

,..^,rl..,,    ^..."' 

8         - 

•■ 

v,t^' 


esses 


CHAPTER  Vn.  ' 

Thb  black  chevalier,  as  our  readers  have  decied,  was 
Bertrand,  the  favoritejover  of  the  beautiful  Laura  deKers- 
koen.  Having  no  hope  of  obtaining  the  hand  of -his  mis- 
tress on  account  of  the  hatred  between  his  unde,  the  Duke 
de  MercoBur,  and  the  Marquis  de  la  Roche,\e  had  resolved 
to  profit  by  the  absence  of  ^Jhe  latter,  in  order  to  carry 
away  the  young  lady  of  the  manoi^  His  plan  was  one  of 
the  most  simple.  Having  in  his  pay  k  regiment  of  troopers, 
Bertrand  was  to  present  himself  at  the  gate  of  the  manor 
in  the  disguise  of  a  troubadour,  a  plan,  which  he  had 
often  previously  adopted  for  the  purpose  of  securing  an 
entrance.  i 

A  part  of  his  soldiers  were  to  follow  him,  concealmg 
themselves  among  the  rocks;  he  was  to  solicit  hospitality, 
wMcTwas  never  refused,  because  the  soldiers  0/ the  garri- 
son knew  that  the  troubadour  was  agreeable  to  the  niece 


.j:j'lj^ 


.:.  i    .lk^e^'^',)'t&M 


't 


42 

of  their  master,  and  thusVen^  himself  master  of  the  fort- 
ress.  This  explains  the  message  which  he  had  expedited 
to  Laura  by  meansf  of  the  carrier  pigeon.  But  scarcely 
iiad  he  sent  this  message,  when  a  spy  informed  him  that 
the  marquis,  then  at  St.  Malo,  was  on  his  way  back  to  the 
chateau.  Made  desperate  by  the  disappointment  which  ad- 
journed  the  accompUshment  of  his  designs,  our  paladm  re- 
solved  to  seize  the  marquis.  Having  faUed  in  this  attempt, 
he  proceeded,  nevertheless,  with  his  enterprise,  in  which,  as 
we  have  seen,  he  suffered  a  new  reverse. 

Bertrand  knew  the  Viscomit  de  Ganay  weU,  and  if  he 
reqmred  that  he  should  renomice  his  title,  it  was  only  in 
jest.  Nor  was  he  less  aware  of  the  pretensions  of  John 
to  the  heart  of  Laura,  which  explains  why  it  was  that  he 
attacked  with  such  blmd  fury;  for,  stmig  with  jealousy,  he 
wished  to  hmniliate  a  rival  who  had  already  distinguished 
hmiselfby  numerous  exploits.  ^^ 

The  duel  lasted  more  than  twenty  minutes,  with  a  fury 
which -nothmg  could  equal.  The  two  antagonists  were 
perhaps  about  the  same  strength,  but  to  the  p'^sion  of  his  ad- 
versary,  John  opposed  an  impertm-bable  calmness,  and  after 
the  first  passes  it  was  easy  to  see  that,  except  a  lucky  ac 
cident  occurred,  the  viscount  would  bo  the  victor  in  this 
singular  combat. 

In  fact,  the  nephew  of  the  Duke  de  Mercoem-,  exasperated 

bythecoolnes8oftheequerry,pliedhis8wordatrandomwith. 

out  paying  any  attention  to  the  thrusts  of  his  antagonist :  it 

was  now  that  John  awaited  him ;  but  as  he  desired  rather  to 

=^«arffi  toi  ^OTTO,  He  nepected  many  opportunitie.  of 


-<    -fit,  -,"'«r  ^;v)' 


43 

striking  him,  now  that  it  was  easy  to  do  it  in  all  security. 
FmaUy,  however,  grown  tired  himself,  he  gave  blow  for 
blow,  and  after  a  parry  or  two,  he  made  a  feint  J^nd  stmck 
Bertrand  in  the  opening  between  the  ouirass  and  armlets. 

The  young  man  staggered  and  feU  on  his  knees  j  his 
shouldeJ-  was  completely  transfixed. 

This  defeat  put  an'end  to  hostilities.    The  assailants  sur- 
renderedjgjn  mercy  of  the  besieged,  who  had  come  out 

""^  *^^  g(BI*y  a  trap-door,  in  order  to  be  present  at 
the  duelT^^ 

William  de  la  Roche  warmly  embraced  his  brave  equer- 
ry,  caused  the  captives  to  be  put  in  chains  to  the  number 
of  sixty,  and  had  Bertrand  conducted  to  one  of  the  dun- 
geons  of  the  fortress.  Then  having  given  orders  to  double 
every  guard,  and  to  cover  the  dead  bodies  with  quicklime, 
he  brought  John  de  Ganay  to  his  apartment. 

«  Well,"  said  he  on  arriving,  "  was  I  not  right,  my  dear 
•and  brave  friend  ?"  ^ 

"I  don't  know,  sir." 

"Then  you  did  not  know  Bertrand  deMercoeur,  nephew 
of  the  duke?" 

"I  had  heard  him  spoken  about,  a  good  deal,  as  a 
valiant  champion " 

"Valiant!'  Do  not  apply  that  epithet  to  him,  my  son, 
Bertrand  is  a  coward,  unworthy  of  the  coronet  he  bears  on 
his  blazon.  Do  you  wish  a  conclusive  proof?  It  was  he 
who  attacked^  us  this  morning  on  nnr  ^nrov  -A-zmw  g«    li/r^i 


he  who  has  attacked  to-night  by  means  of  a  conspiracy  of 


*, 


:f 


44 


% 


which  I  don't  know  the  plot;  he  who  has  provoked 
wounded  you  1" 

"Can  it  be  possible?"  murmured  the  viscount. 
«  Only  too  true^"  replied  WiUiam ;  «  but  what  course  are- 
we  td  pursue  in  regard  to  him  ?'* 

«' To  refer  him  to  the  justice  of  the  king.'» 

*'  So  I  wag^hiddng— yes,  it  seems  to  me  to  be  the  best 
expedient;  for  his  crime  can  not  remain  unpunished,  and 
our  security  requires  that  we  do  not  keep  him  here.  The  * 
duke  would  not  know  how  to  rescue  Mm.  Come,  good 
courage,  John  I  In  a*few  days  we  shaU  be^on  our  way  to 
defend  a  more  Aoble  cause-the  holy  cause  of  the  Chria. 
tian  re%ion."     ♦  . 

The  Marquis  de  la  Roche  and  his  equerry  exchanged  a 
few  words  more,  and  then  parted,  the  one  to  inform  him- 
self  as  to  his  niece,  the  other  to  assure  himself  that  all  dan- 
ger had  ceased. 


,'  <  ,^ 


li. 


^  . 


i*.i 


*      lii    % 


r\ 


CKAPTER  Vm. 


Tus: 


^ 


^'-x 


V  ^  q.i  6  igr. 


What  h^d  become  of  Laura  deK|ersko5ii?"ji^y  aid   '^ 
her  uncle  not  find  Jier  in  her  chambet  ? 

At  nine  o'clock  the  youiig  lady  of  tie  manor  opened  the 
flash  of  her  window,  and  heard  the  nt)ise  of  a  fobtstep  on 
the  rampart;  she  sajd,  as  the  rdader  ^iU  rememT^er,  "Is  it' 
you,  Bertrand?"  But  the  flash  of  Hghti|uig  having^own  her 
John  de  Ganay  instead  of  him  she  Expected,  Datura  sud- 
denly retiwd  in  a  fright,  augmented  by  the  war-cry 
whjch  nearly  at  the  same  moment  came  to  her  ear. 
Trembling  and  terrified,  she  first' thought  of  B(}eking  refuge 
with  her  uncle.  An  instinct— the  instinct  of  love— stopped 
her.  Returning  to  her  window,  shb  sawthrough  the  darfc- 
ness  the  black  plume  which  surmounted  the  helmet  of  her 
lover.  I  .       / 


,v  M 


«BertrandI"  said  i^e,  "merciful  Heaven  I  is  this  done  by* 


him?" 


ShaijAAkM^a-,  Ai->-  U^u<w  ti''ii^r,^i^uxM^*i^^^ 


^ 


4.^ 


49 


.^  But  a  thought  struck  her.    Without  reflecting  any  fur- 
ther, Bhe  descended  into  the  court  of  honor;  she  hoped  to 
^e  able  to  warn  Bertrand  that  the  marquis  had  returned 
to  the  chateau.    Unfortunately  aU  the  means  of  egress  bad 
been  barricaded,  and  she  was  obhged  to  return  to  her 
apartment.    It, was  during  this  absence  that  WilUam  came 
to  see  his  niece.    Palpitating,  lovesick,  not  daring  to  look 
outside,  she  sat  on  the  side  of  her  bed,  and  listened.    It  is 
more  difficult  to  describe  than  to  imagine  the  moral  tor- 
tures she  had  to  suffer  during  the  siege  of  the  manor. 
Every  musket  report  werberated  through  her  heart  Uke 
a  funeral  kneU ;  and  when  the  thunderbolt  fell  on  the  bridge 
With  a  horrible  fracas,  the  poor  girl  almost  fainted. 

What  a  sad  situation  for  her  I    If  her  uncle  was  con- 
queror,  her  lover  would  without  doubt  be  prit  to  the 
sword;  if,  on  the  contrary,  Beitrand  prevaUed,  what  might 
he  do  to  the  Marquis  de  la  Roche,  who  had  reared  and 
Cherished  her  like  a  father?  MonDieu,  what  affliction  for 
the  unfortunate  Laura  I  Distracted  by  the  conflicting  sen- 
tmients  of  duty,  gratitude,  and  the  anxieties  of  the  passion 
of  love,  how  deeply  did  this  cruel  alternative  pain  her  Her 
heart  beat  violently,  and  the  blood  rushed  to  her  head. 
w|en  Catharine  entered  with  a  torch  in  her  hand.    The 
good  dame  shuddered  at  every  limb. 

«  Jesus,  Lord,  have  pity  on  us  1"  she  excllned.  «  They 
are  going  to  seize,  piUage,  and  sack  us,  ae  they  did  at  the 
monastery  of  lieaues.  Holy  Mary,  mother  of  God,  pro- 
tect  usi"  ^ 

"  You  are,  then,  so  much  afraid,  nurse  ?'>  said  Lanra  jn 
OTderto  aHay  her  leais.^  '""^  ^"*~ 


'4 


^*. 


"Fear,  dear  mademoisellel— fearl  Oh  I  let  ub  pray,  my 
daughter;  let  us  implore  the  justice  of  heaven  that  right 
may  triumph!" 

Laura  did  not  rightly  know  what  response  to  m^ke  to 
this  invitation ;  implied  by  the  example  of  her  nuSe,  she 
prostrated  herself,  and  both  =,commenced  to  teU  their 
beads,  interrupting  each  other  from  time  to  time  as  the 
tumult  increased.  ' 

When  the  duel  between  John  de'Ganay  and  Bertrand 
had  ended,  both  the  besiegers  and  besieged  were  silent. 

"Mercyi  sweet  Saviour,"  said  Catharine,  supposmg  that 
Providence  had  heard  her  prayers,  "the  traitors  ar6  ex- 
pelled." #•  •  ■ . 

"Hush  I"  said  Laura,  rising  and  approaching  the  wm- 
dow. 

"Oh,  demoiselle!  demoiselle!  where  are  you goi^tg?" 
"Hush!" 

Thrusting  herself  out  of  the  window,  the  young  lady 
looked  about  anxiously;  then  she  shuddered  and  bounded 
back;  then  she  advanced  again,  passed  her  head  outside  the 
sash,  writhed  her  body,  and  with  muscles  quivtering,  and  eyes 
fixed,  she  contemplated  the  drama  which  was  bemg  enaot- 
ed  on  the  esplanade.  I  leave  it  to  be  imagined  what  sen- 
sations she  experienced  during  this  long  combat,  which 
compromised  the  head  she  loved  above  all  expression. 
Twenty  times  she  tried  to  scream,  but  her  emotion  made 
her  dumb;  twenty  times  she  wished  to  shut  her  eyes  and 
JP  y^thdrawi.Jbut  flupQwer  of  attfaetioa^  aioro  cnei^ic 


than  her  wilj,  held  her  riveted  to  that  plao^, 


,'._jjWL_Ai-        illiff^icii.    ''iKivi&iJ 


.ick,    *  litiiiS,!. 


n 


'•.I 


.48   ■ 

Bertrand  is  struck— te  falls  I 

LnmediateJ^  the  nerves  of  Laura  distended— she  -was 
Wt  at  heart— she  sank  down  on  the  floorl  Catharine  ran 
to  her  aid.  ^ 


*    *  « 


The  next  night,  between  eleven  o'clo^  and  midnight, 
Laura  de  Kerskoen,  lady  of  Vomadeck  Manor,  enveloped 
from  head  to  foot  in  a  dark  mantle,  stealthily  crossed  the 
court  of  honor  of  the  castle,  proceedmg  direct  to  the  fort- 
ress. A  sentinel  was  in  the  sentry-box  at  the  entrance,  but 
he  had  got  a  soporific,  and  he  slept  profoundly. 

Laura  penetrated  into  the  tower,  mounted  the  first  flight, 
and  drawing  a  large  %  from  her  co^rset,  opened,  after 
many  difficulties,  the  door  of  a  chamber  of  triangular  form. 
This  chamber  is  the  prison  of  Bertrand. 
<^  Chained  to  a  block  of  stone,  the  young  man  was  suffer- 
ing  from  a  violent  fever,  occasioned  by  the  wound  he  had 
received  on  the  shoulder. 
«  Who  is  there  ?"  asked  he  sadly. 
The  young  lady  uncovered  the  lamp  which  she  had  con- 
cealed  under  her  mantle,  and  knelt  by  his  side. 
"Laural    Is  it  a  dream?" 
"Alas,  poor  Bertrand r* 

"But  what!  I  do  not  dream!  It  is  you,  really  you! 
Oh,  approachl-yet— yet-there-that  I  may  touch  your 
clothes,  and  respire  your  breath!  My  God,  yes,  it  is  she— 
it  is  my  Laura— " 


J 


rfa    'TV*4*4t'     * 


\  ^y^SiJ^WW^ILB-*- ' 


"Do  not  pity  „^  l^,^  g„„3  „g^,_  ^^_.^  J^^j    ^ 
happy  amce  you  hu.e  given  me  this  proof  of  love.  Now  I 
mU  confront  the  worn  torture,  without  a  murmur." 

toai::;:^'^'"-'"'"'-^"-''^!"'"'™™™ 

The  prisoner  snuled^bitterly. 
-Ohl»  said  h.,  eriubiting  the  iron,,  ,ith  wMoh  he  was 

"Are  you  toofe^W^o  sustain  yourself?"  * 

"Howistjia^^ 

«Wait,^aid  Laura,  handing  him  a  Kttle  file. 

BetrlT  '^  •''^  ^"^^"^"^  *^'  P"^'  countenance   of 
"But  after  ?'»  Baid  ho. 
"After  I   Fear  nothing." 

And  with  her  tiny  fingers  the  charming  ^irl  began  to 
file  the  chain  which  riveted  her  lover  to  J  Jail. 

This  work  was  slow  and  painful;  tfie  white -hands  of 
Laura  ^e  stained  with  blood.  But  the  courage  of  love 
ammated  her-that  courage  which  has  rendered  so  many 
women  famous  by  «.eir  heroism-and  at  ti.e  end  of  an 
Hour  the  cham  was  sawed. 

"Now,  let  us  hasten  P  said  she. 
The  hope  of  liberty  gave  strength  to  the  captive  j^ii^y 
descended  the   steps  of  the  fortress  untU  they  aUel 

^e^ound  ^h^ms.l^somm.MM.c^a  .^ 
ot  wnioh  was  a  well.    ^^  ^ 


./-    j^  ' 


\>V 


^^•^ 


f!\   T"' ^1""'",*'^*5 


* 


:4s 


50 

"Come,"  said  the  lady,  pointmg  to  the  brink  of  the  well, 
"we  must  part  here.  A  few  feet  above  the  margin  of 
this  well  a  ladder  is  concealed,  and  lower  down  is  a  sub- 
terranean passage,  which  will  conduct  you  to  the  northern 
flank  of  the  mountam.  Here  is  the  stolen  key  of  the 
postern;  but^swear  on  your  hon<^r  that  you  will  never  re- 
veal the  secret  which  I  haVe  confided  to  l^ou."* 

"Alas,"  said  the  young  man  in  a  plaintive  tone,  "I  no 
longer  feel  any  wish  to  leave,  I  would  rather  die  I'* 
°     "Go,  friend  I" 

"Without  you  existence — ^ 

"  Bertrand,  I  will  never  be  anybody's,  but  yours.  Take 
this  ring;  it  is  one  bequeathed  me  by  my  dear  mother—' 
let  it  be  the  pledge  of  our  betrothal  I" 

'*■  The  young  man  took  the  ring,  and  pressed  it  tp  his 
lips. 

"Come,  let  us  separate,  time  presses,"  said  Laura,  her 
eyes  filling  with  tears. 

Aided  by  his  mistress,  Bertrand  descended  into  the  well, 
put  his  foot  on  the  first  step  of  the  ladderj  actel  bid  the 
young  lady  adieu.  But  she  stooped  down,  and  kissed  his 
forehead. 

— N^  "Oh,  you  will  be  mine,  my  well-beloved!"  exclaimed  the 
prisoner  with  transport,  and  holding  y|  his  left  hand 
the  lantern  which  Laura  had  given  him,  he  proceeded 
down  in  to  the  depths  of  the  abyss. 

By  degrees  the  sound  of  his  step  faded  away,  and  when 
it  had  ceased  to  resound  on  the  humid  stairs,  the  niece  of 

^roUiam  deJa^Bod^estood^i^jayiag; ^ 


l"S*-t 


"       'T    '  V  -^jS^,'/. 


..%• 


61 

"Blessed  hf  my  merciful  patroness  I  Bertrand  is 
saved  1" 

A  few  mirltxtes  after  Laura  de  KerskoBn,  Countess  x)f 
Vomadeck, /returned  to  her  apartment  without  having 
been  remar] 


^ 


^.^ 


1 


well, 

/ 

(f 

I  the 

« 

dhis 

♦ 

■ 

\ 

^  "t^ 

I  the 

' 

1 

band 

-, 

■■     . 

* 

eded 

' 

' 

- 

rhen 

' 

'■ 

') 

'  i 

seof 

r 

/ 

^ 

'    * 

"■■■'*^ 

«• 

• 

•- 

-  - 

-• 

1^^^ 

Jtejiii^iiiff'iTfiirfT---   - 

'  .^^ 

olieM^kaL 

« 

I        I 

I 


r- 


6i 


CHAPTER  IX. 


:pB3B^ORE    arum    UEPi^RTURBl. 


v- 


A  MONTH  had  passed  after  the  events  we  have  just  relat- 
ed, Laura  is  at  the  window,  where  we  have  already  seejQ 
her — she  is  expecting  something.  A  pigeon  arrives,  its 
white  plumage  recalls  our  gentle  messenger  of  love.  In  a 
word,  it  is  Addresse ;  she  brings  a  letter. 

This  letter  informs  her  that  Bertrand  is  safe,  recovered' 
from  his  wounds,  that  he  proposes  to  carry  her  away,  and 
wishes  her  to  feign  love  for  Viscount  de  Ganay,  and  de- 
clare to  him  that  she  has  made  a  vow  not  to  contract 
any  engagement  until  she  has  attained  her  twentieth 
year ;  in  a  word,  to  determine  him  to  adjourn,  until  his 
return  from  Canada,  their  betrothal,  which  was  to  have 
taken  place  next  day. 

After  having  read  and  re-read  this  note  several  times,  she 
shed  Bveet  tears — Laura  proceeded  to  the  armory.  The 
equerry  promenaded,  absorbed  in  thought,  and  agitated 
by  gloomy  preseatiments.  » 


\ 


Mt 


#4*M 


Si 


■elat- 
seejQ 
,  its 
In  a 

ered' 
and 
.  de- 
Tact 
tieth 
[  his 
liave 

,she 
The 
ated 


H 


■"Tott  f^m  very  sad,^  said  the  young  lady,  in  her  most 
agreeable  tone ;  *^hai  any  misfortune  befallen  you  f" 

"Ah,  mademoisene,"  replied  the  vis6ount,  "yes,,  a  great 
misfortune  1    so  great  that  I -^air  pf  bebg  able  to 

"Indeed I  should  I  be  ^^^^HffiBking  what  it  "^ 
cause  of  this  deep  affliction  ?*»^l|^^^|^* , 

"Then,  are  you  not  grieved  y^^ei^?" 

"Me!  Holy  Virgin  I  yes,  much  grieved.  There  is  nd 
use  in  my  saying  that  I  can  reconcile  myself  to  the  idea 
c£ his  departure,  and — :r* 

«-^d— »  exclauned  John.  '' 

Laura  lowered  her  long  eye-la^es  with  a  gesture  of  mod- 
esty, but  without  jpaking  any  reply. 

"Do  you>^grei  only  the  Marquis  de  la  Roche  ?"  insinu- 
ated the  equerry,  whfe  a  prey  to  the  most  piognant  emo- 
tion. 

"  Do  you  think  I  would  forget  my  friends,  MasteS^?'* 
replied  the  lover  of  Bertrand,  accompanying  this  question 
with  so  incendiary  a  glance  that  the  poor  viscount  biliev^d 
himself  loyed,  and  felt  disposed  to  throw  himself  at  the  feet ' 
of  the  siren. 

"  But,"  said  he,  with  a  trembling  vwce,  "do  you  num- 
ber m"e  among  your  friends  ?" 

"  What !    Is  it  you  that  ask  mo  such  a  question ;  you 
who  enjoy  the  consideration  of  Monsiegneur  de  la  Roche  j 
you  who  have*<Jb  recently  saved  this  chateau;  you-— ^ah, 
-it  is  too  bad|  John^  td^tfoubt  me  sa  P  ""-:;v? — ~~~ ^ 


Hi.. 


•^ 


^ 


<.  .-.i^4' 


64 


^:    >^ 


'■i 


A  liquid  pearl,  which  sparkled  at  the  comer  of  her  eye, 
crowned  this  series  of  tender  reproaches,  ab-eady  expressed 
by  the  significant  emphasis  which  she  impressed  on  her 
■words. 

Women  possess  a  marrllous  talent  for  simulating  the 
sentiments  which  they  do  not  experience.  They  are  often 
even  more  eloquent  in  affecting  passion  than  under  its  real 
influence.  -^ 

Is  it  surprising,  then,  that  the  viscount  permitted  him- 
self  to  fall  into  a  snare  thus  strewed  with  roses. 

"  Whatl  Is  it  true  ?»  exclaimed  he,  with  warmth.  « I  did 
deceive  myself.    You  love  me,  Laura  I    You  partake  of 

the  passion  which  overwhehns  me,  and  you Oh  I  joy 

makes  me  sUly,  I  have  been  so  long  hoJ)ing  for  that  avowal. 
Oh!  mon  Dim,  give  me  the  necessary  strength  to  bear 
such  deUght  1" 

He  wished  to  seize  the  hand  of  Laura,  and  kiss  it,  but 
.phe  resisted,  gently  smiling.  & 

"  Fie  I  The  naughty  chevalier  will  not  put  faith  in  the  at- 
tachment of  his  best  fri6«d8 1  You  deserve.  Master  John, 
that  for  your  pains  I  should  bum  the  knot  I  have  platted 
for  your  sword." 

"AswordT-knotl  Ah,  Laura,  your  kindness  overwhehns 
me !" 

"A  sword-knot  which  I  have  here,  and  whicli  I  wiU  at-    - 
tach  myself,  if  yorlwill  permit  me,  to  the  guardif  your 
rapier.  *«»Hencefojth  be  loss  suspicious,  or  I  may  get  vexed  ^ 


W.  ' 


-^9f  good,    B«tl  have  a  repelFtOlSSke  of  you.'»^ 


es 

wmd!^r~" '""""'  ^^'  '?'"'=  ^  »»"'™'3  that  I 

wm  do  an  m  „,ypower  to  prove  myself  worthy  of  th^irst 

mark  ofcoofidenoe  you  ha™  deigned  to  «»„rd  mo.    Tel- 
pursued  he,  "ask  of  me  my  life  I  «I.«11  l^  ^ 
it  to  you."  «  "y  l^e,  I  shaU  bo  happy  to  offer 

His  eompteioo,  usually  pale,  was  suffused  ^riti  .„  „. 
^n.a.e Mush;  his  ™ice  had  sympathetic  iutonations  "r" 
h.m«chah„gtheperfume  of  true  love  profoundly  feit.    Th" 

was  too  profusely  occupied  to  be  moved  by  contact  even 
f  ith  so  ardent  a  passion.  /  >-i.  even 

"^hat  I  am  to  request  of  yon  would  cost  you  much  •• 
^phed  she.  "  However,  I  will  not  take  advantage  of  yo^ 
tmdne^,  to  eHcit  in  advance  a  pledge  for  which  you  wouS 
perhaps  afterwards  reproach  yourself." 

"  No,  no,"  interrupted  De  Ganay,  with  vehemence;  "nol 
whatever  you  order,  I  swear  by  the  guard  of  my  word 
to  execute  faithfully."  "■/ swora 

The  lover  of  Bertraud  could  not  repress  a  smile  of  satis- 
f^t,ou  m  „e,„g  him  faU  into  the  net  which  she  had  so 
adroitly  set  for  him. 

iecte"^'""  ""^  -"'™'  "'  <*='  »^-P"»«o» ."  »"«  Ob. 
■   "Fear  nothing;  speak." 

to-Z™:""""^ ""' """"  ^" '"»'  -  ^^^^^oti.^ 

"And  this  is  my  sweetest  aspiration.*' 
*^ThIs  is  what  I  doubted." 


56 


u 


You- 


i, , 


» ^- 


«  Alas,  sir,  I  have  promised  not  to  contract  any  engage- 
.     ment  before  I  aiii  twenty  years,  and  I  am  not  yet  eighteen, 
do  yoiU  know." 

"And  this   promise,"  stammered  De  Ganay,  pludged 
in  the  horror  of  disappointment. 

"I  have  made  to  a  person  dearer  to  me  than  existence." 
-    In  pronomicing  these  words  in  a  faltering  tone,  Laura 
'  rumpled  the  corner  of  her  handkerchief 

-*'  That  your  wish  n^y  be  granted,"  said  the  young  man, 
after  having  paused  a  moment  to  conceal  the  anguish  which 
rent  his  heart.    Then  he  added ; 

«  A  vow  is  sacred ;  I  viU  respect  vows  in  resp^^g  my^ 
own.    But,  Laura,  will  you  be  faithful  f 

"  Oh,  certainly,"  said  the  niece  of  the  marquis,  oontmu- 
ing  mentaUy  her  perfidious  falsehood.  "Yes;  I  wiU  be 
feithful  to  my  last  breath.  To  Bertrand,"  murmured  she 
in  an  undertone. 

"Ah,  ah,  my  young  friends,  a  tender  romance  of  love  1" 
interposed  WiUiam  de  la  Roche,  who  happened  to  be  pass- 
ing  at  the  moment. 

Laura  availed  herself  of  the  opportunity  \q  run  away 
like  a  frightened  hind. 

Twenty-fom-  hours  after  this  conversation,  a  cavalcade, 
composed  of  ten  armed  men,  a  dominican,  and  two  women, 
mounted  oi^  palfreys,  left  thd  manor  of  De  la  Roche. 

It  was  Laura  de  Kerskoen,  who  set  out  for  the  capital 
of  Blesois,  where  she  was  to  remain  in  a  convent  untU  the 
<adrof  the  eicpedition  offiOT  naole." — ~  ^'      -  —    -      ■   -^ 


jSgfSm.^Si 


1. 


\,.»i' 


V4 


67 


^ 


Standing  at  the  summitJ^f  the  fortress,  John  de  Ganay 
fbUowed  for  a  long  distance  ,.vith  his  eyes  the  cavalcade, 
which  winded  about  the  flank  of  the  mQuntain. 

The  equerry  hoped  that  one  of  the  women^would  turn 
about  and  beckon  to  him,  but  no  one  did,  and  when  the 
two  amazons,  preceded  by  their  escort,  disappeared  b^nd 
the  massive  trees,  John  cfb^fied  his  arms  sadly  on  his  breast 
and  exclaimed : 

"Great  God  I  has  Laura  ^edeived  me-does  she  n'ot  love 
me?"  0  ^ 


f 

* 


i 


pital 

• 

^'^ 
'^4 

i  the 

•• 

v''>>a 

t 

«    i 

^ 

%  ■    !^H 

•                                             ■ 

% 

i        ' 

m^^ 

fei;lw;^_-i„. 

\ 

1       . 

■.;:SA^)ljM 

Y% 


AT     SEA. 

I. 

*  PHAPTER  L 

.  At  some  distance  from  the  chateau  of  De  la  Roche,  on 
the  sea-coast,  rose  a  cahin  of  a  miserable  and  desolate  ap- 
pearance.  Stoha^,  cemented  with  slimy  clay,  formed  its 
material,  and  it  was  rudely  thatched  with  straw.  Two 
smaU  windows,  glazed  with  panes  of  oiled  paper,  admitted 
to  the  interior  a  glimmering  Kght.  Before  the  cabin  ex- 
tended a  small  kitchen  garden,  generaUy  but  badly  culti- 
vated. 

This  was  the  habitation  of  Perrin,  the  fisherman,  of  his 
son  Yvon,  and  of  his  step-daughter  Guyonne,  the  fisher- 
woman.'  * 

_Qne  night,  a^the  end  of  M^  ef  th«  year  ICM,  Perriir~- 


V  ■ 


the  fisherman,  an  old  man  of  sixty,  but  still  robust,  not- 


t  ». 


59 


?x 


3sr. 

I,  on 
ap- 
l  its 
[Vo 
tted 
ex- 
ulti- 

his 
ler- 


•rar 

lOt- 


withstanding  his  wrinkles  and  silvered  hair,  sat  on  a  led-o 
ofstoneatlihedoorofthe  hut,  repairing  a  net  that  wL 
much  damaged. 

The  fisherman  was  sad,  anxiety  and  despair  markedjiis 
countenance,  which  was  bronzed  by  the  heat  and  incim- 
ency  of  the  season. 

Frequently  he  gave  a  sad  look  towards  the  chateau; 
then  a  tear  glistened  in  the  comer  of  his  eye;  he  aUowed 
the  thread  to  faU,  and  crossing  his  arms  on  his  breast,  had 
a  profound  revery.  He  soon  resumed  his  work,  however, 
uttering  some  unintelligible  words. 

Suddenly  a  young  woman  appeared  at  the  comer  of -the 
thicket,  carrying  on  her  head  a  wiekei-  basket. 
The  old  man  uttered  a  cry  of  satisfaction. 
"  WeU,  Guyonne  ?»         ' 

"Console   yourself,   my  father,"   replied  the   woman. 
« Yvon  will  be  liberated,  ifnt  please  God  to  second  mjLM 
project,"  added  she,. mentsply^,  ■  "^ 

"Liberated-my  Yv«a  derated!"  sai^  the  fisherman    *  ' 
with  a  passionate  tone.    «0h,  m^  daughter  I.  Guyonne/ 
dear  child,  approach  me,  that  I  may^race  you."  „ 

"Good  father,"  said  she,  abandonifig  her  cheeksfi^e 
caresses  of  the  old  miai.  ,^  .^^^       . 

"But,"  said  the  latter,  "you  have  th^  seen  him?    You 
have  spoken  to  him  ?    The  Marquis  de  la  Roche  has  par- 
doned bim,  has  he  n6t?    Oh,  I  wiU  pray  to  our  Lady  of    . 
the  holy  Saviour  to  favor  the  enterprise 
«.-  - 


^ 


» 


listen,  uiyMhtirrgrByBiy-^ssermpmi^i^ii^;!^^ 
no  not  wish  to  deceive  you.    I  hate  not  seen  Yvon." 


».,i,Xi,j,i-A.LKVAii.  ;-:„„■ 


..^:.\:  ^..,..., 


(( 


'  '^at  St.  Malo,;|ince  this  mondiriA."'  3^^ 


all  tK^  other  prtsoae^wlfe 


i  ranee. 


% 


terrified  bj^  this  news,  "^Qi»,pierci- 
Itoql^  has  promised  him  to  yott-^— " 


aeu*  de  la  Roche  is  gone  himself,t|Fith  his 
1^'y  have  ^escorted  the  captives."       '% 
ie  old  man  grew  pale,  and  staggered.  * 

*•  %r  not,"  said  Guyonae,  "I  will  surely  save  Y^;  I 
Bveai'^t  to  you." 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  ^he  fisherman,  "can  you  trifle Wh 
meinthisway,inydaaighter?    Ihave.neversdoneyouany  ^ 
;'"      *  hiirm,  and  still  ybu  reassure  me  only  to  plunge  me  deeper 
*^'   and  deeper  in  affiction."' 

•;  "I  have  told  you,  ajid  I  now  repeat,  that  I  will  .save 
••  him,"  ekclaimed  she,  in  a  persuasive  tone;  and  Perrin*felt 
^.^    his  hope  revived. 

J ' '  ^      «  How  ?    What  is  your  project  ?"  objected  he  still. 

«  That's  my  business.    Confide  in  me,  my  fatber ;  I  will 
keep  my  word.    Before  twelve  hours  Yvon  will 
but  it  will  be  necessary  to  place  you  unde;r  the  p< 
of  the  Duke  de^^rcoeur.    Now,  give  me 
tion,  for  never^^^g  perhaps,  shall  we  see 

Whetlier  it  ^Wlhat  he  4id  not  hear  thHj 
thai  he  did  not  imderst^ad  'its  meaning,  Pei 
^  iB^wgatively  f  — - — ^-- ;  -; — 


V 


s 


;  f 


I'fT^"^- 


-A 


..*■» 


>^y 


his 


K>n 
lio- 


;4  ii 


V 


s 


reeovered 


"What I  in  twelve  hours  I  shaU  hj 
brave  Yvon;^  ire  you  sure,  Guyonne?" 

"As  sure  |is  one  can  be.  But  time  presses;  give  me 
your  benediciion,  my.father,"  replied  she,  kneeUng  at  the 
feet  ofThe  old  man. 

"  Where  d6  you  want  t6  go  ?" 

"To  St.  Malo— to  Yvon.      Pray  to  the  Ahnighty  to 
second  my  designs." 

"Go,  my  daughter,"  said  the  fishenrian,  extending  his 
hands  over  Guyonne.  "  Go,  may  God  ai^  you.  For  my 
part,  I  commit  all  to  your  courage  am^  prudence.  Ah!  if 
you  succeed  in  saving  Yvon,  I  camTot  live  long  enough  to 
prove  to  you  my  gratitude."    » 

Standing  up  again,  Guyonne  threw  herself  into  the  arms 
of  the  old  man  ;  then,  after  having  exchanged  with  him  a 
few  words  m9|e,  ^e  proceeded  towards  the  seaK3oast,  de- 
tached the  cable  of  a  small  boat,  jumped  lightly  into  it, 
and  rowed  off,  making  a  sign  of^adieu  to  her  father. 

The  bay,  usuaUy  ruffled  and  foammg,  was  this  evening 
as  level  ^s  glass.    No  breeze  disturbed  its  tranquil  surface, 


illuminated 


ni 


'W*^*'-: 


e  setting  sun. 


<?•'. 


Leani^bn  her  oars,  <Jpyc%ti^ struck  the  wave  with  the 
skill^an  accomj^lished  waterman,    jgeriittle  boat  made  »^ 
Blighrfurrow  in  the  sea,  unrolling  a  it)bon^Jiai5i.^#»  ., 

Miss  Guyonne  waA  strong  and  handsome  woman.  If 
is  impossible  to  imagine  aWi^ifiagnifioiiit  combination* 
of  magoqlineformB  iimtM  tA fominin^j^piie^ ^^i.  head," 
admirable  inx^ession,  surmounted  ^b^f^iichly^rdpotu 


"\ 


•J 


.^ 


r 


62 

tioned,  and  of  attractive  appearance.     Her  thick  black 
hair  floated  on  her  shoulders  in  silken  ringlets,  rendering 
her  fine  countenance  a  perfect  oval.    The  forehead  high  and 
large,  the  eyebrows  weU  defined,  the  nose  somewhat  hooked, 
and,  above  aU,  the  vivacity  of  Guyonne's  eyes,  denoted^  res' 
olute  and  energetic  character.    ^Notwithstanding  her  talt 
figure  and  mascuUne  organization,  her  hands  were  small 
though   bronzed  by' hard  work;   her. feet  compaktively 
smaU.    If  her  eagle  glance  repressed  the  rash,  the  amenity 
ofher  manners,  the  touching  sweetness  ofher  voice,  seduced  ' 
those  whom  she  treated  as  friends.    Proud  towards  the 
'  disdainful,  submissive  without  humihty  to  her  superiors, 
afiable  to  equals,  Guyonne  displayed  towards  her  relatives 
a  complete  selHabnegation.    Physical  and  moral  strength, 
superior  materia  attraction,  amiability,  ingenuity,  chastity 
—such  was  the^riMnan.    Far  from  being  a  drawback,  J^ 
herculean  stature  imparted  an  additional  charm  to  her'per- 
son,  when  by  acquaintance  one  was  enabled  to  appreciate 
the  rare  qualities  which  adorned  her. 

Miss  Guyonne  was  twenty-five  years  of  age.     She  was 
supposed  to  be-  the  daughter  of  a  coastei,  who  it  was 
thought  perished  in  a  shipwreck  on  the  coast  of  Newfound- 
land,  and  of  a  woman  who  had  married  Perrin  for  her  second 
husband.    This  woman  died  on  having  given  birth  to  Yvon, 
The  fisherman  contracted  an  afiection  for  his  own  child 
which  amounted  to  idolatry.    He  reared  him  ^th  all  the 
care  which  his  precarious  condition  permitted.    But  Yvon,  . 
as  often  happens,  did  not  repay  the  affection  of  his  father; 
Thoughtless  and  indolent,  he  was  soon  numbered  amongst  i 
"  """""*       >in  the  neighfeoiiood.  if^^  ^    —     


• 


*• 


t'-- 

corned  him 

habit  of  ev 

» 

^    ' 

m^^ 

M:^  '  w4iiM*<i'^ aCiiWfc.''.*i„*,>.  4 

68  • 

One  morning  he  disappeared,  and  remained  several  years 
absent.  This  flight  proved  ahnost  fatal  to  Perrin.'  Such 
was  his  grief, that  he  attempted  suicide;  butGuyonne  pre- 
vented him.  Yvon,  who  had  gone  to  the  war,  rettirned 
suddenly  as  he  had  left,  and  the  joy  which  his  return 
caused  to  the  old  fisherma,n,  was  also  well-nigh  proving 
fatal  to  the  latter.  Alas!  this  joy  was  not  of  long  dura- 
tion, for  Yvon,  whose  inherent  slothfuhiess  had  inclined 
him  to  the  life  of  a  soldier,  and  who  saw  in  the  Marquis  de 
la  Roche  an  enemy  to  the  Catholic  religion,  enlisted  in  a 
troop  of  bandits,  in  the  pay  of  the  Duke  de  Mercosur. 

Having  taken  part  in  the  attack  on  the^Chateau  de  la 
Roche,  he  was  taken  prisoner,S^ith  all  of  his  companions, 
who  had 'escaped  the  missiles  of  .the  garrison.    The  mar- 
quis, who  was  then  recruiting  men  for'tho  expedition  which 
he  had  projected,  asted  and  obtained  permission  to  trans- 
port his  captives  toj  the  colony  of  New  France,^most  of 
them  being  fugitive^  from  justice,'  or  malefactors.    Master 
Yvon  was  but  Iitt|fe  reconcUed  to  the  fate  that  awaited 
him.    A  v6yage  of  ;twelve  or  fifteen  hundred  leagues,  after 
that  an  unlimited  practice  at  the  hatchet,  the  spade,  and 
the  hoe,  had  but  little  charm  for  his  imagination.    Know- 
ing that  his  father  had  formerly  rendered  service  to  the 
Marquis  de  la  Roche,  he  informed  Perrin  of  his  situation, 
?^d  beggedj^m  to  solicit  his  pardon.    Certainly  there 
was  no  ne^^^upplicating  the  fisherman.    At  the  news 
that  his  welFUeloved  son  was  about  to  be  torn  from  him, 
he  hastened  to  the  chateau,  and  William  de  la  Roche  wel- 
^ith  a  gordiality  which  M  was  littli  in^^&ftLl= 


jing  towards  his  vassals.    Blit  as  soon  as  the 


V 
9. 


\ 


t 


%  - 


visit,  he  lowered 
"baitwold  fihare  the 


old  man  let  him  know  the 
his  eyebrows,  aad.drily  r 
P'lnJshmenfr  of  hig  accompliijes. 
#'>The  fisherman  retumed^eart-broken  to  his  cabin.    Tk^ 

tientive  soUcitude  of  Qnyonne  was  needed  to  allay  the 
t*emes8  of  his  grie^  and  to  re-animate  the  hope  of  his 
eart. 

*  "^  «  not  Iost^»  said  she;  "Danje  Catharine  loves  j»e 
hke&m^er.  You  are  aware  that  she  ii  the  nurse  <jf  our 
young  l^dy,  Laura  d^  KerskoSi|  and  has  great  influence 
the  Marquis  de  la  Roche.  Let  me  speak  to  her;  perlf 
with  her  wd  we  may  succeed  in  softening  the  marquis." 

Like  at  who  aspire  to  the  realization  of  a  wish,  Perrin 
accepted  thif  persuasion,  and  Guyomie  proceeded  towards 
the -manor.      •       »  s         .^  ^. 

Dame  Catharine,  qrMb%  after  tht^^dcparture  of  her 
yomig  mi^res|^epfr.^th  Gqyoone,  and^finally  promised 
to  mtercedeirl^e  mrquis^e  la  Roche.  y 

William  ^a|  inexorable;  such  was  his  iron  ctocter 

tJiat  never  >^>^^j|modify  a  relation  olS  made.    He 
made  this  infle^bi%  his  point  <^lonc^  ^       ^ 

«  AU I  can  dd  for  you,  m^  riri,!^^  ;;^;«  j^ 
^contrive  an  interviei^  ^th  Apoor  YVon,  when  he  goes 
^StMalo.  ViscountdeG^P&^argeofthep™^^^^ 
mm  not  refule  h  oblig|us.    I  wiU  have  a  talk  with 

hun;  return  to-morrow." 

^^  Guyomie  spen|;  the  night  thmking and  praying;  the  dawn 

found  her  prostrated  before  the  grave  of  her  mother 

'    Sh^  was  stiU  melancholy ;  but  the  veU  pf.  "anxiety  which 


«. 


^% 


r 


;,.«f»V"T?'^% 


>■?»;■ 


«. 


% 


.0 

An  inconceivable  determination  germinated  in  the  brain 
of  the  fisherwc^nan.    She  went  up  to  the  chat(^u. 

"  They  are  in  route  for  St.  Malo,  and  are  to  embark  t<v 
morrow,  my  child,"  said  the  old  woman. 

*'  Have  you  Buccee^ed  ?"   |§ 

"You  can  see  him  to-night  by  presenting  this  note  to 
the  sentinel.'*       ,         •  •  < 

"Oh,  thank  you,  thank  you,  Dame  Catharine  I  May 
God  recompense  you."  ' .     , 

GUyonne  dijgscended  the,  mount^dn  running.  We  have 
already  narrated  the  conversation  which  ahe  lilid  with  her 

epfath^r  on  her  return. 

bw,  we  will  resume  the  thread  of  our  narrative,  and 
follow Jke  young  girl  to  St.  Malo. 

The  cmfeW  had  not  yet  sounded,  when  she  entered  the 
port  of  St.  Malo,  and  the  stars  were  still  to  be  seen  in  the 
firmami^nt.  Guyonne  had  no  difficulty  m  findmg  the  prison 
of  the  captives,  for  the  streets  were  crowded  with  persojll^ 
engaged  in  .discussing  the  probable  chqnoes  of  the  LaRi 
expecLition.  % 

The  highwaymen  were  confined  in  an  old  convent,  situ- 
ated At^lhe  south  of  the  city.  A  sentry  walked  up  and 
down  before  the  door,  musket  in  hand; 

"Cahlspeak  to  the  sergeant  of  the  guard?"  inquired 
Guyonne  anxiously, 

*'To  the  sergeant  of  the  guard?"  replied  the  soldier; 
"  yes,  indeed,  my  pretty  pullet.    And  what'  is  the  business 


^^the  sergeant  of  the  guard?" 


Vr^ijUjV^ 


T-^.jrajyf^i^i-^T-i  n;p~w' 


'T'^'' 


66 


0 


;(' 


"  I  have  a  note  for  him^" 

•J 

«  A  note  I  By  the  hoofs  of  Beelzeb^b,  what  a  fortunate 
mortal  is  our  sergeant  1  Come  here  under  this  cloak,  my 
atfgeL" 

While  saying  these  words,  the  sentry  advanced  to  put 
his  arms  around  the  waist  of  Guyonne ;  but  the  latter  seized 
him  by  the  middle,  brought  him.  to  the  ground' like  a 
feather,  and  dasheihim  against  th6  waU  of  the  monastery. 

When  the  soldier  pt  up  he  swore  at  her,  and  began  to 
repeat  his  impudent  familiarities,  when  the  gate^  opened  to 
make  way  for  John  de  Ganay. 

"  Ah,  master,  it  was  heaven  that  sent  you  1"  said  Guyonne 
to  the  equerry. 

"  What  do  you  wish  ?*» 

"Dame  Catharine—"  commenced  the  young  girl. 

"  Well,  my  girl,  I  understand  what  you  want,"   said 

the  viscount  with  interest.    «  You  are  the  sister- ^" 

«  Of  Yvon,  master." 

"  Enter,  I  will  order  that  you  be  conducted  to  him." 

After  havmg  addressed  a  few  words  to  the  commandant 
of  the  station^ohn  de  Ganay  went  out  again. 

"Follow  me,"  said  the  sergeant  to  the  young  girl. 

^  the  head  of  the  stair-oase,  there  ejttended  a  long  cor- 
ridor, whose  Bonorous  flags  reechoed  the  noise  of  the  steps, 
and  they  halted  at  a  low  door.  * 

"  Number  40,"  said  the  aergeaftt,  "H  is  her4^'   __ 


yt 


67 


-«■-    'Tm 


He  drew  a  bolt,  laid  the  resin  torch  which  lighted  them, 
on  the  table,  and  retired  observing,  ♦*  In  an  hour  I  will 
come  for  you." 

During  this  time  Qnyonne  had  precipitated  herself  mto 
the  arms  o^^von. 

"  Tell  me,  dear  brother,"  murmured  the  young  girl,  after 
these  warm  greetings  were  over,  "  don't  you  long  for 
liberty?" 

"Yes,  I  should  die  before  reaching  that  infernal  country, 
where,  it  is  said,  nothing  is  to  be  got,  but  bruises  and  hf^rd 
knocks." 

"  I  am  reijolved  to  deliver  yoli  myself." 
"You?" 

"  On  01^  condition." 

"  One  (Condition?  speak;  I  subscribe  to  all  in  order  that  I 
may  not  be  exiled  to  that  cursed  land  of  New  France." 

"If  you  will  swear  not  ,to  grieve  our  old  father  in  fu- 
ture— ^* 

"  But  what  is  your  plan  ?" 

"  You  wiU  know  it  in  due  time." 

"  I  make  the  vow  you  ex^t,  Guyonne." 

"Mark  you,  Yvon  1^ Mu^'^e  young  girl,  her  eyes  moist 
with, joy.  "Now,"  addfi/she,  "let  us  exchange  our 
clothes.  You  will  take  my  gown  and  mantle,  and  I  will 
take  ypur  overcoat  and  pantaloons  I" 

"  A^d  you  will  remain  a  prisoner  in  my  place  l" 


"  Certainly,"  replied  she  vnth  a  smile. 


"Ha^  you  thought  of  what  you  are  saying  ?" 


'^. 


.  ZH 


•■A 


es 

! 

■  "  Oh  yes ;  I  thought  of  it  all  last  night  at  the  grave  of 
our  mother;  it,  was  she  that  suggested  tome  this  stt^t-  ♦ 

.  agem."  .  "• 

"Kind  heart!"  said  the  young  man,   embracing  her; 

"  but  do  not  think  that  I  would  agree— ."  »    . 

"  Yvon,  think  of  your  father; 'he.  can  not  Me  without 
you.'* 

"No,  no,  my -sister ;  I  will  not  be  guilty  of  such  cowardice. 
You -don't  know  what  sort  of  brigands  these  troopers  are* 
with,  whom  I  have  been  condemned." 

"No  matter!"  :     \ 

"What  E^iatterl"\but  you  would  be  carried  off  with 
them.",  \ 

"  Child,  do  you  for^t  that  the  Marquis  de  la  Roche  has 
"' ,,  refused  to  6mbark  a  single  woman  on  his-ressel  ?" 

"  To-morrow,  I  wiU  ^eclar^  my  sex,  and  I  shaU  be  set 

.     at  liberty."  '  ',  -        <»• 

This  reasoning  seemed  ^ery  plausible ;  the  love  of  liberty^ 
was.s^-Sfi-ong  in  his  breast \that  he  soon  permitted  himself    ' 
to  be  <?onvinced.  \  »  - 

^^    The^  two  young  persons  trere  prettjr  nearly  of  the  same  ^'^ 
-height:    They  ex(ihanged  th^u- costume,  and  G«yonne  said 
to  her  Wher  while  arrangm^  her  bonnet'  on  hit  head :  . 

«  WhV  the  sergeant  comea  for  you,  pretend  to  crj^  and 
hold  this  handkerchief  to  your. face,  ii  order  that  he  may 

y  not  remark  tlie  cjiange.  Once  outside  the  mo^^itery,  you 
will  easily  get  .to  the  shore,  where.  I  have  moored  our 
boat."  .  -         .if 

■  '  ■  '\J^  ■■      / 
« I  linderataa^,"  said  Yvon ;  "  but  you  ?'» 

4W.  .  ^  ■  V(f. 


'•*' 

'% 


7—- 


ir 


ye  of 


her; 

■  » 

;hout 

i 

dice. 

arej 


69  * 

«  Don't  fear  in  the  least;    I  shall  know,  with  Iheaifof 
the  Holy  Virgin,  how  to%et  myself  out  of  the  scrapfe." 

All  passed  as  the  nohlegirl  had  predicted.    Yvonleft 
the  convent  withqut  the  least  suspicion  of  fraud,  and  when 
the  outer  door  closed,  grating  on  its  hinges,  Guyonne  fell 
»     on  her  knees,  exclaiming :       "||  ,       '      ^ 

"  I  have  saved  my  father  and  my  brother !  Lord,  hallowed 
*•    be  thy  name^  on  earth  as  it  is  in  heaven  I'* 


with 


>.». 


has 


0'       #.     *\ 


■v.'-*' 


)  set 

• 

erty* 
self. 

mie 
said 

« 

md 

lay 
rou 
3ur 


^ 


.1^-    k: 


# 


^    '\ 


J 


'  M. 


♦  . 


.^.I^_^^&. _ — 


♦* 


','' ' 

•*  ""■'                    ■  ,W      '   ''■  ■■  ■'  -    \"  '^ ' 

\  '*'■■    \ 

r-^ 

coi 

^ 

!                                             ■                                »                ■ 

hu 

' 

V     tio 

~— 1 

1 

on* 

^ 

^             on 

• 

ex< 

, 

.                 •                                                      '                                       ,                the 

J 

sen 

•     CHAPTER  n. 

Ro 

THE     mMBi!i.RK:M:ENT. 

nui 

r 

hai 
fon 

ed,  and  spon  the  prisoners  were  drawn  up  in  two  ranks  in 

I 

the  yard  of  the  monastery,  in  order  to  undergo  an  inspec- 

eye 

f       '^ 

tion.    This  band  of  persons  belonged  to  all  nationalities,     " 

ine 
bin 

and  eaoh  wore  his  native  costume,  or  at  least  the  qiost 

characteristic  part  of  it,  forming  j&  strange  and  picturesque 

I 

* 

spectacle.                                  - 

pit( 

Here  stood  the  portly  German  with  his  bland  face,  flank* 

nar 

ed  on  the  right  by  a  slim  Spaniard^  dry,  of  an  olive  com- 

pie 

plexion  ;  on  the  left  by  a  gigantic,  fat,  red4aced  Englishman, 

ava 

covered  with  a  red  helmet.    There  one  distinguished  a 

Btai 

\ 

j    Swiss  armed  to  the  teeth,  elbowing  a  Langudocian  with 

tret 

a  swaggering  air,  ftnd  a  Augh  halberdier ;  further  on  was 

^            Jthe 

observed  the  slou6hed  hat  of  the  ItaUan,  the  green  helmet 

n 

of  the  mountaineer,  the  streaked  doublet  of  the  Tyi'oleaft, 

ci 

1;  ' 

the  crafty  snout  of  the  Norman,  the  rubicund  and  jovial 

earl 

:'■ 

fa6e  of  the  Bourguignon,  ^  In  sliort,  it  was  a  pell-mell  of 

. ; . '- 1^ '. , 

it 

£,^^. 

• 

w-----^^^ 

irA|i«;i:^^»^-..^v;'.c;r•^;■'^».i;#■^.,-■■";■'^™.W^4^^T■•.■■"i^^                                    *-k«v.^- ■,    ...'„.; ft         -■ 

1\ 


t  I 


.11 

contrasts,  an  amalgam  of  ;heterogeniti«s,  a  profusion  of 
human  antitheses,  a  variety;  of  portraits  (Jf  which  no  descrip- 
tion could  .  give  any  adequate  idea.  Thiere  was,  however, 
one  point  of  similarity  between  all — audlacity  was  engraven 
on  their  countenances  in  indelible  chartacters.  With  this 
exception,  the  troogers  differed  as  much  in  their  moral  as  in 
their  physical  characteristics.  ^  ■. 

A  subaltern  officer  called  the  roll ;  noi  one  was  found  ab- 
sent, and  as  the  officer  terminated  his  report,  WiUiam  de  la 
Roche,  accompanied  by  John  de  Ganaynn  mariner  and  a 
numerous  suit  entered  the  yard  of  the  convent. 

This  seaman  was  forty  years;  his  disposition  was  as 
hardened  as  his  countenance ;  one  for^t  the  Liliputian 
fonn' nature  had  given  him  as  if  with  rcfflbet ;  for  his  gray 
eye  sparkled,  his  tajiering  face,  his  dejectm  qhm,  his  prom- 
inent upper-lip,  his  nose,  like  the  beak  of  a.  raven,  gave 
him  the  grotesque  air  of  a  bird  of  prey. 

I^p  -was  clad  with  liordid  niggardliness,  Wilh  a  stfaw  hat 
pitched  and  tarred,  a  jacket  torn  almost  to  ilbbong^  and  a 
narrow  hroeck.  His  foot- ware  consisted  of  ja  pair  of  boots 
pieced  at  every  seam.  Rapacity  flowing  ilit^i  the  moulA  of 
avarice  was  clearly  pourtrayed  in  this  nian ;  but,  notwith- 
standing  his  physiognomy,  the  haughty  Marquis  de  la  ROohe 
treated  him  with  particular  deference,  as  m£^  be  ISeen  from 
jthe  following  dialogue :  -  ,' 

**  What  think  youOf  these  fellows,  Mr.  Pilbt?"- 

"Humph I"  replied  the  sailor,  "  sad  maburei  to  enrich  the 
earth." 

"  Do  you  think  they  will  become  iaccliinatied  ?'* 


1 


r^- 


M. 


-i?*'.-j._-,"\»"f 


«  Acclimated  1  These  cattle  will  become  acclimated  fmy- 
"wherief/  when  they  get  sufficient  of  thb  leather  thong." 
"Then  you  don't  approve  of  the  cargo  which  chance  has 

confided  to  me  ?" 
j*       ^ 

"JEumph!  to  tell  the  trtith,  I  should  have  preferred 

twCTity  rustics  from  Brittany  to  the  whole  lot." 
"  Then  you  disapprove  of  my  choice  ?" 
*'I  disapprove  nothing ;  you  question  me,  I  answer." 

De  la  Roche,  hurt  by  the  tone  of  this  impertinence,  took 
a  long  step  to  the  rear,  but  his  interlocutor  did  not  observe 
his  gesture. 

"Humph !"  said  he,,  pinching  his  nose,  a^ovement  which 
with  him  spoke  volumes,  "I  believe  the  wind  is  veer- 
ing to  the  southeast  or  northeast.  It  is  necessary  for  us 
to  hasten,  if  we  wish  ta  profit  by  the  b^eze  in  leaving 
port"  V  ;  .  • 

"  "Then  let  the  <^&the8  be  distributed  to  tliese  people,'* 
8add  the  marquis  in  aloud  tone. 

1  Immediately  chests,  filled  with  clothing,  were  brought 
into  the  yard,  and  a  sub-officer  presented  to  each  of  the 
condetiuied  ft  fuU  suit  of  unifbrm. 

This  xmiform  consisted  of  a  bonnet,  a  Bmockfftock,  and 
pantalocms,  all  of  brown  linen,  and  marked  with  a  figure, 
rudely  worked* 

In  losing  their  liberty,  the  transport  J  also  lost  theMT 
names ;  they  became  4™pJy  tm§  or  tihat  number.  ^  . 

It  was  now  about'sLx  o*olodk  in  the  moxfiin^.    .f 


-  V    ■ 


■f    . 


-iltf    .i.' ;  ^tte  ■■  f~ ''•.2^ 


'k... 


•     .- 


/*,» 


{my. 
has 
rred 


took 
erve 

bicli 
reer- 
>r  us 
ving 

aght 
Fthe 

and 
jure, 

fche# 


78 


A  laijgB  aninjated  crowd  encumbered  the  streets  of  St. 
]\|alo,  anxious  to  be  present  at  the  embarkment  of  the  ad- 
venturers.    On  th^alconies,  at  the  windows,  and  even  on 
the  tops  of  the  hduses,  were  to  be  seen  groups  of  the  cu- 
ridhs.    It  was  no  shght  event  in  1598  to  witness  the  de- 
parture of  a  ship  f(w  America.    Fifty  years  had  scarcely 
passed  since  Cartier  had  weighed  anehor  in  thdftarme  port 
to  explore  the  part  of  the  gr'eat  American  continent  known 
as  Newfoundland,  had  discovered  St.  Lawrence,  and  on 
their  return  from^  theif  different  voyages  the  companic^s 
of  the  immortal  navigator  related  so  piany  -vi^onders  of  the 
magnificent  couiitj:y  of  Canada  thg,t  ever^Body  wished  to 
see  those  who  were  destined  to  civiUze  it.    Thus  every 
available  place  on  their  way  was  crowded ;  but  it  was  par- 
*ticularly  at  the  qtiays  that  th^  ^traltitude  pressed  intumultu- 
otsui^  waves.  Ii^ 

Among  the  transports  ther^was  one  who  attracted  parti- 
cular attention.  The  contrast  between  him  and  the  one  to 
whom  he  was  chained,  contributed  powerfully  to  exhibit  the 
nobleness  of  his  behavior,  ai|d  the  manly  beauty  of  Jiis 
countenance.  '/  "^ 

"But,  St.  Theresa,  how  genteel  he  is/  murmured  • 
piquant  Brit tanian.  "  Is  it  not  a  8hame,'Martha,  tp  carry 
so  brave  a  youth  beyond4he  ocean  ?"  < 

"  Ah,  m&'m  I  yes,  indeed ;  he  is  far  too  handsome  to  be 
beside  tfieseliasty  bears  whp  look  as  if  tiiey  had  just  made 
their  e8caj)e  from  hell"."  '  •  •   „ 

"  It  seems  as  if  an  angel  had  been  chained  to  a  <jleihon." 
*^Cle!%r  the  dock!"^OEdQj;^ed  a  cavalier,  driving  ba^j^the 
mnltltade  With  his  laocie. 


■5  ■' 


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'Hi 


?         like  a  drop  of  water  falling  on  burning  charcoal,  this 
little  incident  happily  cooled  the  ardor  of  the  two  youngr 
women  who  had  already  become  excited  at  th?  eight  of  the 
handsome  transport. 

When  the  column  debouched  on  the  esplanadCj,  a»  we 
have  described,  a  salvo  of  artillery  saluted  their  aS^val. 
The  prisoners  entered  the  inclosure  prepared,  uncovering 
thei  Jheads  «id  kneeling.  Soon  after  app^ai^d  a  procession 
of  Monks,  preceding  a'  "dais  under  which  the  Bishop  of 
Rennes  piously  advaticed — having  been  called  upon  to  bless 
the  departure  of  the  adventurers.       ^ 

The  prelate  mounted  the  steps  of  the  altar,  and  said 
mass,  which  was  heard  with  profound  attention.  Jslever 
was  a  ceremony  more  majestic,  or  more  iinposing,  when  in 
presence  of  this  vast  multitude,  of  this  tranquil  sea,  of  which 
the  limits  were  lost  in  the  azure  of  the  celestial  vault,  the 
old  gray-haired  man  in  a  voice,  sympathetic  and  solemn, 
implored  the  divine  assistance  for  the  success  of  the  enter- 
prise, ,the  audience  feeling  themselves  moved  even  to  tears. 

The  highwaymen  themselves  bowed  the  head,  as  Clovis 
had  done  in  foimer  times  at  the  command  of  St.  Remie. 

William"  de  la  Roche,  the  pilot,  and  several  sailors  com- 
municated^ and  received  the  consecrated  bost  at  the  hand  of^ 
the  venerable  prelate. 

An  observer  remarked   that  not  only  did  the  equerry, 

John  de  Ganay,  not  take  any  part  in  the  service,  but  also 

that  he  did  not  assist  at  the  mass. 

V,     It  is  useless  to  -conceal  any  longer,  what  my  sagacious 

reader  has  abready  divined.    Viscount  de  Ganay  had  em- 


e 

0 


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Jt 

/. 

•                                           '    ' 

braced  t^ie  doctrines » of  the  reformed  religion.  If  he  did 
not  dare  to  avow  his  faith  at  this  epoch,  when  the  abjurar 
tiOn  of  Henry  TV,  had  fallen  like  an  anathema  on  the  Cal- . 
vinists,  ^ohn  remained  fail^ul  to  the  doctrines  Of  his  con- 
victions, and  secretly  conformed  to  the  rites  which  he  could 
not  practice  in  public.  .  It  was  easy  for  him  to  retijre  where 
there  was  such  a  multitude. 

Mass  being  over,  the  embaij^ent  proceeded. 

The  two  ships  Castor  and  |5rable  were  moored  at  some    • 
hundreds  of  yards  from  the  shore.     In  less  than  twenty ' 
minutes  the  passengers  were  transferred  on  board\ 

A  discharge  of  cannon  gave  the  signal  for  departure.      / 

On  the    Castor  were  William  de  la  Roche-Gomraard, 
Governor-General  of^tlanada ;  John  Viscount  de  Ganay,  his 
equerry ;  Aleiis  Chedotel,  pflot-lockman ;  Guyonne,  the  ' 
fisherwoman,  and  a  considerable  number  of  future  col- 
onistB. — 


«., 


,-*.  1  ft 


CHAPTER  ra. 


TJEIB3     CASTOR. 


/ 


EvBN  at  the  present  day,  wonderful  as  are  the  improve- 
ments made  in  the  art  of  ng^igation,  it  is  not  without  a 
sort  of  indefinable  dread  that  we  undertake  a  \royage  across 
the  Ocean;  although  the  enormous  and  magnificent  ships  which 
literally  furrow  the  seas  ofier  almost  as  much  Security  and  ac- 
corambdation  as  our  houses  and  chateaux.  What  gigantic  pro^ 
gress  navigation  has  made  during  four  centuries !  What  a 
difference  between  these  immense  vessels  which  are  construct- 
ed stt  present,  and  those  which  then  ventured  intrepidly  in 
searph  of  unknown  lands !  When  one  remembers  that  it  was 
with  thpee  vessels,  of  which  two  -weTfTicithout  decks,  and  6{ 
which  the  third  was  one  of  only  two  hundred  tons  burden, 
that  Columbus  sailed  from  Palos  tife  1st  of  August,  1492,  to 
discover  America  the  1 2th  of  October  of  the  same  year ;  when 
one  bears  in  mind  that  it  was  with  two  miserable  schoon- 
ers  of  sixty  tons  burden  that  Cartier  cpssed  the  Atlantic, 
to  be  the  first  to  explore  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  Labra-    ^ 


A 


\ 


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^ 


■  r  yrvrr^  t-^  F'lTT'  'i 


\^y 


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A  * 


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'77 


dor,  Newfoundland!,  etc.;  when  we  bear  in  mind  that  it 
was  with  two  vessels  nearly  similar,  that  the  successors 
of  these  great  men  have  achieved  the  discovery  of  the 
Xew  World,  how  much  does  our  admiration  increase  for 
the  immortal  regenerators  of  America  I 

The  Castor,  which  hore  William  de  la  Roche  an'^  the 
gi'eater  pait  of  the  heroes  to  Acadia,  was  so  small  that  a  co- 
temporary  aflSrms  that  from  the  cords  of  the  gunwale  one 
could  dip  his  hands  into  the  sea.  The  capacity  of  the 
Castor  was  estimated  at  a  himdred  tons.^  For  the-f  est,  the 
vessel  was  handsoine,  solid  at  bottom,  a  fast  sailor,  find 
bearing  Tier  mdsts  ptoudly,  firm  as  steel,  flexible  as  whale- ' 
bone.  She  contained  a  hold,  a  steerage,  and  two  cabins. 
The  hold  contained  the  provisions  and  Aunitions  of  war. 
In  the  steerage  were  packed  the  tranMM|;ts.  ♦The  forward 
cabin  had  for  a  host  the  Marquis  Wu^m  de  la  Roche, 
the  Viscount  ^e  Ganay,  the  pilot-lockAan^  Alexis  Chetodel, 
and  some  others.  The  cabin  of  the  prow  was  occupied  by 
the  sailors. 

When  she  left,  the  harbor  of  St.  Male,  the  Castor  ^ad  on^ 
board  ninety-two -men,  including  the  Governor-General  of 
Canada,  his  aj^aff,  and  some  cadets  froni  noble  families. 

Several  transpbrtf  had  obtained  pevmis|ion  ftpm  the 
marquis  to  remain  on  deck,  in  ord0r«6  co»template  as 
long  as  possible  the  shores  of  that  beautiful  France,  which 
they  quitted,  perhaps,  forever.  The  others  had  descended 
to  the  steeraige,  so  that  they  shaiuld  not  interrupt  the  naove- 
mentsof  the  jailors.     • 

AH,  however,  would  have  wimBto  enjoy  the  privilege 


accorded  only  to  a  fey,  dor  how< 


^ 


yXcious  was  their  na- 


78 


ture,  however  coarse  their  appetites,  however  hardened  by 
the  fluctuations  of  fortune,  they  were  profoundly  grieved  • 
by  tho^ought  of  this  tedious  voyage  so  fiir  from  their 
counwy. 

It  is  said  that  the  love  of  place  is  a  prejudice ;  bnt,  oh, 
let  us  admit  that  it  is  a  magnificent  one,  superior,  in  our 
opinion,  to  the  most  poble  affections.  ' 

And  the  proof  is  that  a  man  sometimes  leaves  his  parents 
without  regret ;  that  he  parts  with  his  wife  and  children 
withou^^orse ;  that  he  will  resist  the  storms  of  adver- 
sity ^i^^^Rck  does  the  ftiry  of  the  tempest ;  that  the  loss 
of  linjHK^Jt  ^^  persons  that  are  dear  to  him,  does  not 
aflaipPi^pDut  that  he  will  grieve  and  sob  like  a  woman 
if  he  is  foi^ced  to  bid  an  eternal  adieu  to  his  country. 

Guyonne  mscribed  under  the  name  of  Yvon,  number  40, 
enjoyed  the  advantage  accorded  only  to  a  small 
her  companions. 

Standing  at  the  foot  of  the  mainmast,  she  saw  the  shores 
of  her  adored  Brittany  fading  gradusdly  like  a  mist,  whilst 
the  sun  shed  its  golden  rays  on  the  harbor  of  St.  Malo»  and 
the  propitious  wind  filled  the  sails  of  the  Castor. 

Who  could  tell  what  were  the  thoughts  of  Guoynne? 
for,  from  .time  to  time,  a  siient  tear  coursed  along  her 
cheek,  and  her  head  drooped  sadly  on  her  breast. 

Noble  girl,  had  she  calculated  too  much  on  her  courage, 
and  already  reproached  herself  with  her  heroic  sacrifice  ? 

No ;  Guyonne  was  as  strong  in  mind  as  she  was  in  body ; 
the  perils  of  her  sitnation  did  not  frighten  her ;  the  fate 
reserved  for  herself  gave  her  but  little  anxiety ;  but  she 


\\  .- 


Vv 


thought  of  the  tomb  of  her  dear  mother;  that  tomb  she 
used  to  watch  with  solicitude,  and  which  she  adorned  daily 
with  new  flowers,  and  upon  which  the  Jjkrs  and  thorns 
would  now  soon  grow ;  she  thought  of  OTTold  father,  who 
was  going  to  be,  deprived  of  her  attentive  cares;  of  her 
young  brother,  without  a  guide  to  direct  him  over  the 
sand-banks  of  life. 

Poor  Guyonne  thought  of  her  friends,  of  the  evening 
song,  of  the  lowing  of  her  heifer,  which  she  was  to  hear  no 
mo^e;  of  the  chapel  of  the  village,  of  her  little  chamber, 
to  irvhich,  perchance,  she  would  never  return.  Then  she 
thought  of— I  bjow  not  what— of  what  is  nothing,  and 
what  is  alL 

Infl'ont  of  her,  leaning  against  the  mizzen-mast,  John  de 
seemed  also  absorbed  in  profound  meditati6n. 

His  reflections  were  full  of  bitterness.  Had  he  not 
broken  thetie  which  attached  him  to  happiness?  and  did 
not  each  knot  sailed  by  the  Castor  bear  him  farther  and 
farther  from  her  whom  be  loved  ? 

Besides,  a  strangQ  presentiment  tortured  the  nund  of  the 
viscount,  Notwithstanding  the  pledges  of  tenderness  which 
he  had  received  from  Laura,  he  doubted  whether  she  would 
ever  redeem  them. 

All' attempts  to  banish  these  painful  suspicions  were 
fruitless ;  they  returned  incessantly  and  overwhelmed  him 
like  a  nightmare. 

John  remained  six  consecutive  hours  in  this  situation, 
motionless,  and  insensible  to  all  that  surrounded  him.  But 
when  the  ealrth  is  completely  veiled,  the  equerry  turns  his 
attention  to  the  prow  of  the  vessel. 


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80  .  • 

He  perceived  the  pretended  Yvon,  who  had.  not  moved 
a  pace  since  she  got  on  board,  but  tried  to  pierce  the  hori- 
zon to  distinguish  a  line  that«till  indicated  her  country. 

The  serene  beauty  of  the'  young  "dcumi,  his  intelligent 
physiognomj^,  the  softness"of  his  features,  the  calmness  of 
his  dfemeaiop,  surprised  the  equerry  to  the  extent  of  awak< 
ening  him  from  his  reverie. 

He  wondered  by  what  chance  this  handsome  youth 
found  himself  included  among  the  condemned,  when  Che- 
dotel,  who  ordered  a* change  of  tack,  precipitated  himself 
rudely  from  the  forecastle  on  deck,  and  struck  a  violent 
blow  with  his  telescope  on  the  head  of  the  spurious  Yvon. 

"  Be  oflF,  you  abortion  of  the  devil  1"  , 

Stunned  with  the  violence  of  the  blow,  the  young  girl 
obeyed  slowly. 

The  pUot,  furious,  pushed  her  with  such  rudeness  that 
she  fell  on  a  large  iron  cable  and  cither  face. 

*  Naph"  said  Chedotel,  continuing  to  give  his  orders. 

This  act  of  brutality  revolted  John  de  Ganay.  Ho  pro- 
ceeded to  reprimand  the  pilot  severely,  when  he  remem- 
bered  that  the  marquis  had  invested  Chedotel  with  full 
powers  during  the  voyage.  Repressing  his  anger,  he  bent 
down  to  afford  assistance  to  the  wounded,  who  rose  with 
her  face  covered  with  blood. 

"Do  you  wish  me  to  call  the  surgeon?"  said  he,  com- 
passionately. 

"Oh  no,  thank  you,  monseigneur;  a  little  salt  wate: 
will  be  sufficient  to  dry  up  these  scratches." 


e^- 


\r' 


81 

The  gentleness  of  this  answer  increased  the  interest 
which  the  eqwerry  felt  for  the  transport. 

Drawing  frona  his  doublet  a  silk  handkerchief,  ho  pre- 
sented it  to  her,  saying : 

"  Wipe  yourself  with  this.  I  will  send  for  anything  you 
want." 

Guyonne,  moved  by  a  new  and  inexpressible  senti- 
ment, did  not  dare  to  accept. 

"Take  it,"  said  the  viscount,  putting  the  handkerchief 
into  her  hand. 

"  Oh,  riionseigneur!"  said  the  young  girl. 

"  Well,  you  may  speak  of  gratitude  another  time.  Now, 
conform  to  my  will." 

The  remedy  of  Guyonne  had  all  the  desired  effect,  save 
that  the^e  remained  a  few  blue  marks,  she  appeared  more 
charming  and  fresher  than  before. 

Her  coarse  uniform  of  gray  linen,  enhanced  by  contrast 
the  fairness  of  her  complexion.  ^  4 

The  viscount  could  not  repress  a  gesture  of  admiration. 

"  What  is  your  name  ?"  asked  he,  leaning  against  the 
side  of  the  bulwark. 

"  Yvon,  at  your  service,  monseigneur,"  replied  she,  after 
some  hesitation. 

"  Yvon !  I  heard  that  name  pronounced  before.  Yvon  I 
whose  vassal  were  you  ?" 

"  Monseigneur  de  la  Roche's." 

"  Ah,  ah  I    In  fact,  I  remember.   Your  father  is  a  fisher- 


man. 


>» 


t-.Vm^Vi;k.'\S£J.\t>^^JL'ti,- 4 


Kaj'.'J!?-.\J.;*V 


^3ti»»^w^^irrflv:i.«VMiH!p«,fi^fiiJS»^"KwQi  iMUiilJ'P' 


*%- 


88 

"  A  fishennan,"  repeated  she,  aflaijmtively. 

"  And  what  age  are  you  ?*' 

"  I  shall  be  twenty-five  at  Candlemas." 

"Twenty-five  years!  You  seem  to.be  scarcely  seven- 
teen." 

"  I  don't  know  how  to  lie,  monseigneur." 

"But  you  were  with  the  bandits  who  assailed  the  cha- 
teau?" 

The  young  girl  stammered  an  unintelligible  phrase. 

"And  you  have  a  [|ister  ?"  continued  John  de  Ganay, 

.  The  reply  of  Guyonne  was  rendered"  inaudible  by  the 
clock  of  the  Castor,  which  announced  dinner. 

The  viscoujpt  parted  immediately  from  his  protege  to 
proceed  to  the  front  cabin,  where  were  al^|M||^united  the 
Marquis  de  la  Roche,  the  pilot  Chedotel,'^4|B^e  principal 
officers  of  the  ship.  »        ^ 

"  As  to  the  step-daughter  of  Perrin,^  although  she  had 
taken  no  kind  of  food  since  thje^  previous  evening,  she  felt 
too  niuch  overwhelmed  with  gr^ef  to  care  to  eat,  and  she 
remiuned  on  deck. 


i 

IT  ■ 

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<^ 

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tliii: 

, 



1^-    • 

— T-< 

:^a5 

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SM^^M^SiteM 

Si.-^'iii»i4.^: 

4.4 

2^^...,. 

-.    -..    .  tt',.  ..,.-■' 

U:^   ;■     -...■..     ;■■"-■  .-"'.-ir^  ■ 

CHAPTER  IV. 


■  >" 


THK     ST  ORM:. 


TowAJBDs.the  evening  of  the  same  day,  Chedotel  prome- 
naded witt  precipitate  step  on  the  deck.  His  angular  and 
coarse  features  were  more^epulsive  than  ever ;  he  torment- 
ed his  ni>8e  mth  his  hooked  nails  with  an  inconceivable 
perseverkiyjet  and  sounds  frequently  escaped  from  his 
throat  which  il  would  be  difficult  to  translate. 

At  every  instant  the  eyes  of  the  pilot  were  attracted  to- 
wards the  sky,  and  he  stamped  with  his  feet  like  a  man 
who  foresaw  danger  without  finding  any  means  of  avoid- 
ing it. 

However,  nothing  m  the  atmosphere  seemed  to  annonnce 
any  change ;  the  sun  set  illuminating  the  waters  of  the  bay 
with  his  rays,  and  the  wind  whistled  with  unaltered  equal- 
ity. 

The  Castor  cut  the  waves  as  rapidly  as  a  bird,  and  to  all 
others  than  an  experienced  mariner  the  nig&t  seemed  des- 
tined to  be  as  calm  and  delightful  as  the  day  had  been. 


<-♦■ 


^tii^s'TTO'^-'.Tr^r 


•^\ 


:    -  84 

All  the  convicts  were  shut  up  in  the  Steerage;  whSa  the 
hatchway  was  opened  a  confused  hum  was  heard  as  from 
abeehbe.  Lying  about  the  masts,  the  sailors  chatted, 
slept,  and  played  at  dominoes. 

John  de  Ganay  was  seated  on  the  platform  of  the  ship, 
curiously  examining  the  foaming  of  the  waves  as  they 
broke,  and  darted  liquid  pearls  at  the  flanks  of  the  Castor, 

The  Marquis  de  la  Roche  had  not  quitted  the  cabin  since 
dinnen 

Suddenly  he  proceeded  on  deck  and  approached  Chedo- 
tel.  ' 

«  Well,  Master  Pilot,  fine  weather  isn't  it  ?  God  has 
blessed  our  expedition." 

"  Humph  I  fine  weather — humph  !'* 
'"You » 

Chedotel,  whose   eyes  were  attentively  fixed  on  the 
horizon,  suddenly  interrupted  the  marquis. 
"TakeinsaU!" 

"What's  the  matter?"  said  the  marquis,  astonished  at " 
this  order,  of  which  he  understood  the  signification,  but 
which,  he  thought,  was  not  prompted  by  any  apparent 
cause. 

The  sun  had  extingma^ied  its  last  rays  in  the  sea;  one 
could  remark  that  its  disk  had  a  copper  hue. 

"Tack  to  windward!"  cried  Chedotel,  with  a  piercing 
voice. 

The  change  of  course  had  scarcely  been  ^ected  when 
a  violent  blast  wbistled  in  the  rigging  of  the  Castor. 


,  85  .  ^_ 

Soon  lifter  a  rolling  was  heard  like  that  of  distant  thun- 
der, and  the  sky  was  streaked  with  sombre  clouds. 

All  the  sailors  had  suspended  their  pastime  to  run  to  the 
rudder,  some  to  the  saU-yards,  some  to  the  capstan. 

"Furl  the  sails  I  furl  aUl"  thundered  the  speaking 
trumpet  of  the  pilot. 

But  before  tie  manoeuvre  was  executed,  a  second  swell 
assaUed  the  Castor,  and  gave  her  such  a  push  to  the  lar- 
board that  the  lower  rigging  plunged  deep  into  the  water. 

This  unexpected  seesaw  precipitated  the  marquis  against 
the  poop.  , 

The  works  of  the  Castor,  cracked  with  a  horrible 
datter. 

"Return,  monsieur!"  said  Chedotelto  the  marquis j  "re- 
turn to  your  cabin,  this  is  not  your  place."    ; 

In  saying  this,  the  pilot  was  no  longer  that  Aan  of 
astute  and  sulky  countenance,  whom  we  have  presented  to 
the  reader:  he  became  the  mariner  in  his  sphere,  the  mari- 
ner who  measured  his  strength  with  that  of  infuriated  na- 
ture, and  recognized  no  other  counselor  than  his  eye,  no 
other  master  than  hiis  own  will. 

On  land  the  human  being  rarely  fbrgets  his  character;  at 
sea  he  debases  or  exalts  it  according,to  circumstances. 

Lazy,  drunken,  libertine,  vile,  the  sailor  is,  however,  sus- 
ceptible of  accomplishing  prodigies  of  labor,  endurance, 
nobleness. 

The  commander  of  a  ship,  though  he  may  be  a  stupid 
brut©  in  calm  weather,  becomes  a  genius  in  a  storm.    His 


\ 


f-'^wrnv^JV^^ 


88 

voice  dominates  evto  that  of  the  tempest,  his  will  controls 
the  rage  of  the  elements,  and  his  person  becomes  incarnate 
with  ne\»  life  to  struggle  against  the  three  formidable 
enemies — fire,  air,and  water  1 

Like  an  artist  seized  with  inspiration,  Chetodel,  his  speak- 
ing trumpet  in  one  hand  his  telescope  in  the  other,  had 
grown  ten  inches  taller. 

The  sea  swelled  more  and  more.  The  waves,  high  as 
mountains  and  fierce  as  nndiaiaed  tigresses,  rushed  tu- 
multuously  against  the  carene  and  the  gunwale.  The  squalls 
succeeded  each  other  with  frightful  rapidity.  It  was  said 
that  the  Castor  danced  a  sort  of  fairy  dance  on  the 
abyss.  Now,  si^e  mounted  on  the  extremity  of  sen  immense 
wave,  and  ^non  she  plunged  into  a  shroud  of  waves,  noth- 
ing around\  her  than  humid  plies ;  then,  rushing  above 
the  water,  pi^nting,  she  freed  herself  from  her  aquatic  wind- 
ing sheet,  and  recommenced,  after  encountering  a  thousand 
perils,  her  checquered  course.  j^ 

Fortunately  all  her  sails  were  closely  reefed ;  four  robust 
men  had  charge  of  the  rudder,  and  Chetodel  finn  at  his 
post  directed  the  ship  with  the  ease  of  a  skilful  equerry  who 
dashes  his  charger  through  the  middle  ofVavines.  fprds,  and 
precipices.  " 

T^e  sailors  forgot  the  danger  of  the  situation  in  admiring 
the  extraordinary  coolness  of  the  pilot. 

The  storm  continued  to  rage  with  alarming  obstinacy. 
It  was  to  be  feared  that  the  Castor  would  strike  against 
one  of  i^ose  numerous  sand-banks  with  which  t>h«  bay 


\ 


1  *            \    aboonds. 

\ 

* 

A 

xc 

\ 

A 

\ 

■'                          .^> 

^^w^ 

SS&££^sislffiitf4i-S=fiSr:*ai:S^ 

(/,-■&:>£':•■  :^i-it!^:^-: 

\ 


87  ^       , 

Night  approached  apace,  and  the  convicts  in  the  steerage, 
with  the  exception  of  &  very  small  number,  surrendered 
themselves  to  all  the  transports  of  terror,  when  a  terrible 
cry  brought  their  anguish  to  a  climax.     ^ 

"Fire!  fire!"  \ 

Almost  at  the  same  moment  John  de  Ganay.  appeared  at 
the  top  of  the  steps  which  descended  into  the  interior  of  the 
Castor.  .  \  r 

"Ten  men  with  good-vnUl'*  asked  he.  \ 

More  than  twenty  precipitated  themselves  on  the  steps 
of  the  ladder.  \ 

The  viscount  made  his  choice  rapidly^  And  ordered  those 
selected  to  mount  and  close  the  panel.  \ 

In  executing  all  this,  he  spent  less  time  than  we  can  de- 
scribe it  m.'>  t^     ' 

The  fire  had  orin^nated  in  the  kitchen,  and  already  ]^ 
was  completely  enveloped  in  flames  when  the  co 
rived  on  deck. 

The  wind  redoubled  its  impetuosity. 

The  Castor  flew  over  the  foaming  waves  with  such 
rolling  and  pitching  that  scarcely  were  the  men  employed 
at  the  pumps  able  to  preserve  their  equilibrium. 

"  Reef  the  shrouds  at  the  toggels  I"  cried  the  pilot,  who 
with  his  quadrant  followed  the  disordered  movements  of 
the  bai'k  without  emotion,  and  displayed  a  presence  of  mind 
that  was  surprising,  in  the  multiplicity  of  his  orders. 

When  sometimes  a  wave,  after  having  washed  the  deck, 
menaced  the  forecastle,  furious  and  pale  with  rage,  our 


ar-\ 


,\ 


■ft 


■-v-iid..v..,-..j,..'F|J|-j^-:-'^ 


:£.fi&;^,i-J 


■  IT'  "i"^  ^-.y^^rs^-  v'iy^^ij^jp- 


# 


/ 


88 

pUot  put  hia  arms  around  the  mlzzen-mast,  and  without 
bowing,  his  head,  without  constraining  for  a  second  the 
posture  of  his  body,  he  continued  to  transmit  the  orders 
necessary  to  the  safety  of  the  ship. 

Meantime  the  fire  continued  to  make  progress,  the  pumps, 
but  ill-mamied,  were  insufficient  to  combat  its  greedy  appe- 
tite. 

"I  beKeve,  we  shall  be  burned,"  said  one  of  the  sailors. 

"  Fried  like  gudgeons  in  a  stove,"  replied  another. 

"  But  the  Erable  should  come  to  our  assistance  at  least 
in  an  hour."  '  * 

"Ah,  yes,"  added  a  fourth;  "but  with  such  squ^s  of 
wind  I  defy  her  to  come  near  us.'*  , 

"Are  we  then  lost?"  demanded  the  Marquis  de  h» 
Roche,  who  had  left  the  cabin,  and  mad6  his  appearance 
on  decL  ' 

«  Hum !"  replied  Chetodel ;  "  Lost  I  Hum  I  It  may  be  1" 

"But "  De  la  Roche,  whom  his  dry  answers  an- 
noyed, was  disposed  to  object. 

"But,"  exclaimed  the  former,  stamping  with  his  foot, 
"Monsieur,  retire  1  "your  presence  interrupts  me,  your 
questions  are  unreasonable."  \ 

"  Whal  do  you  mean  ?"  sai^  De  la  Roche,  wounded  to 
the  quick.  -^  t 

"Once  more,  I  say,  leave;  or  I  will  give' up  the  direction 
of  the  vessel.""         .,-     T^ 
"This  tone  I" ■ 


-    1 

1 


89  -% 

"  But  do  you  not  see  that  every  second  you  mak6  me 
lose,  compromisea  our  safety  ?"  said  Chtetodel  with  a  de- 
termined voice,  seizing  and  shaking  in  his  hands  the  fist  of 
the  n^rquis.  . 

"Clown !"  objected  the  great  lord.  » 

A  swell  of  the  sea,  as  large  as  a  mountain,  as  strong  as 
an  avalanche,  siN^ck  the  starboard  in  an  oblique  line,  and 
in  an  instant  covered  the  flames,  'out  short  the  speech  of 
the  marquis,  and  would  certainly  have  carried  him  off,  had 
not  the  steel  muscles  of  the  pilot  disputed  with  it  the  vio- 
lence of  the  shock. 

Although  all  the  men  then  on  deck  were  carefully  on 
their  guard,  two  among  them  were  torn  from  their  embrace 
of  the  mizzen-mast  by  the  irruption  of  the  waves,  and  dis- 
appeared in  the  inexorable  abyss,    . 

y  •'  Withoot  a  grave,  nnkncll'd,  imcofHn'd,  and  unknown." 

Surprised  by  the  sudden  arrival  of  this  swell,  John  de 
Gan^  who  worked  at  the  pumps,  had  only  time  to  snatch 
the  end  of  the  halyai^^^  order  to  save  himself  from  being 
precipitated  over  the  oulwark ;  but  the  rope  broke,  and  the 
unfortunate  young  man  was  about  to  die  a  frightfUl  death, 
when  Guyonne,  supporting  herself  with  one  hand  round 
the  mizzen-mast,  extended  the  othdr  to  him,  succeeded, 
thanks  to  the  extraordinary  vigor  with  which  nature  had 
endowed  her,  in  dragging  him  up  the  bulwark  where  he 
could  easily  entef^the  ship  again  as  soon  as  the  swell  had 
passed  away. 

Guyonne  then  rose  ^er  head.  Her  long  hair  fell  in  dis- 
hevelled folds  on  her  cheeks,  and  ^  water  streamed  from 


-y- 


00 


•s 


her  clothes; "bat  oontentmcnt  was  piotured  in  her  beautiful. 
,  face.  ■  » 

Before  setting  her  foot  again  on  deck  She  piously  eroded 
.  herself,  and  carried  to  her  lips  a  little  leather  purse,  which' 
probably  contained  some  pious  relia 

"Hum,  it  is  Qnly  a  squaU  afler  all  1'*  n^finnured  Ched*- 
tel,  remarking  that  the  rain  oomh^nced^  fall,  and  that 
the  fire  had  been  eztinguidhed  by  that  enormous  wave 
which  might  have  engulfed  die  Castor  if"  it  had  struck  her 
either  at  the  prow  or  poop. 

De  la  R6cheha!d  prostrated  himself  in  prayer..'-       ' 
Some  of  the  sailors  and  transports  imitated  his  example. 

"Rise,  rise,  rabble!"  cried  Chedotel  m  a  commanding 
^.tone;  "and  you,  Monsieur,"  added  he,  addressing  himself 
to  the  marquis,  "I  summon  you  for  the  security  of  all  on 
this  vessel  to  retire  immediately  into  your  cabin,  for  y6ur 
acta  demoralize  my  crew  and  aggravate  the  cojwnon  dan- 
ger." -^v, 

The  marquis  left  without  Uttering  a  word.  Thefemi- 
nence  of  the  peril  from  which  Chedotelhad  rescuediiim 
'was  still  too  fresh  in  his  m^nory  not  to  impose  silence 
npon  him.  But,  nevertheless,  from  that  day  forward,  he 
vowed  mortal  hatred  against  the  pilot. 

While  he  retired,  the  latter,  profitmg  by  the  first  symp- 
toms of  an  approaching  calm,  caused  the  main-sail  to  be 
hoisted  once  more.  At  ten  o'clock  at  night,  the  Castor, 
favored  with  a  fan*  wind,  had  resumed  her  ordinary  rate  of 
Billing,  and  glided  rapidly  towards  her  destinations'  The 
sky  was  disengaged  from  clouds;    the  starg   sparkled, 


y 


-«~^nd 
wh< 
twc 

N 


'L 


Ssfe— — — 


./ 
^ 


-..  > 


L 


■f  /I 


91 


v-^nd  nothing  was  heard  on  board,  but  the  step  of  Ch«dotel, 
who  rapidly  pae^d  the  poop,  and  the  whifipering  of  the 
two  sailors  who  'watched  at  the  prow.  l 


N 


"ivm 


u  -^ 


"T  ■' 


^. 


; 


~*A 


teol 

1 

■    •,     - 

-      ' 

\ 

0 

The 

/ 

n' 

- 

kled, 

/ 

■u 

- 

* 

'■ 

■ 

* 

\. 

** 

* 

i-,.i,....-.-  i 

•....;...-"., ...  ■-.1.  „ . ., .. 

^■i^>'^t^A^^^^.^^l'•luMiXillJ: 

1          u 

-.-j:'."-J.-.feJ&yiV^"J^ 

*        "rfi^ 

-.-TV 


CHAPTER  V.' 


rt- 


THE     CONSPIRACY. 

FiFTEBN  days  h^d  passed  after  the  departure  of  the  ex- 
pedition for  New  France,  and  with  the  exception  of  the 
tempest  of  wMch  we  have  just  been  speaking,  thfl  weather 
was  almost  constantly  favorable.    * 

The  Castor  and  the  Erable  were  in  close  proximity,  and 
were  approaching  the  Banks  of  Newfoundland.. 

On  board  of  the  first  of  these  ships  all  seemed  peaceable, 
and  often  the  song  of  the  sailors  and  convicts  mingled  with 
the  murmurs  of  the  waves ;  pleasant  stories  excited  foars 
of  laughter,  and  the  sombre  legends  caused  a  stikess  for 
hours  together. 

The  calm  was  but  apparent  however.  As  the  Atlantic 
conceals  mider  its  torpidity  abysses  and  terrible  an^^er, 
BO  beneath  her  tranquillity  the  Castor  concealed  abysses 
of  frightful  passions.  The  countenances  are  gay,  but  the 
hearts'are  sad;  the  lips  utter  kind  words,  but  the  mind 


•/ 


03 


cherishes  sinister  plots ;  some  pray,  some  dance,  some 
amuse*  themselves  by  other  means ;  but  the  prayer  is  false, 
the  dance  is  affected;  the  amusement  forced;  in  the  interior 
of  the  bark  are  inclosed  the  elements  of  discord ;  let  only  a 
spark  be  evolved,  and  the  volcano  would  commence  its 
eruption. 

Meantime  the  Castor  movd^long  this  evening  before 
the  breeze,  Uke  a  bashful  maiden  before  her  mother,  to  use 
the  picturesque  expression  of  the  sailor  NoeL  Why  then 
did  Master  Chedotel,  seated  near  the  cabin  table,  his  elbow 
supported  on  the  back  of  a  chair,  appear  sombre  ?  Why 
was  the  Marquis-  de  la  Roche  loading  his  pistols  in  the 
neighboring  cabin  ?  Why  did  John  de  Ganay  pace  hurried- 
ly up  and  down  the  saloon,  heaving  convulsive  sighs  ?  Why 
did  Guyonne  weep  silently  in  the  separate  appartment 
which  she  occupied  smce  the  day  after  the  storm  ?  Why, 
in  a  word,  instead  of  sleeping,  did  the  bandits  seat  them< 
selves  around  the  main-mast  in  the  steerage,  and  whisper? 
Before  answering  the  first  questions,  let  us  hear  what  the 
exiles  say ;  perhaps,  we  may  thereby  catch  the  thread  of 
the  mystery : 

"My  dear  friends,  I  believe,  it  is  time  now,  if  ever^  that 
we  rid  ourselves  of  that  marquis  cUque,  which  shuts  us  up 
here  like  rabbits  in  a  rabbit-hole.  Does  he  take  us  for 
moles  that  he  does  not  wish  us  to  see  the  light  of  the  sun 
by  day,  or  the  moon  by  night.  Sandiou/  this  goes  beyond 
all  bounds  of  courtesy  due  to  brave  fellows  like  us.  For  my 
part  I  assure  you  that  I  am  tired  in  this  undergroimd  dun- 
geon, like  a  moiue  in  a  trap,  and  I  ani  quite  disposed  to 


fQ^' 


.  t!si»ja| 


94 

'    give  a  plunge  to  moaseigneur,  the  Marquis  de  la  Roche. 
What  does  my  friend  Tronchard  think  ?" 

"I,"  responded  theFlemming;  "by  the  beard  of  the 
burgomaster,  I  think  that  my  friend  Molin  is  right;  and 
that  we  are  fools  to  mould  in  this  cabin  like  codfish  in  a 
barrel.'* 

«i>.r  Tmfdr  objected  a  Swiss;  "but  we  are  without 
arms ' 

"  What  ?"  inteiposed  the  German. 

"  Without  some  good  carbines,"  resumed  the  other,  «  we 
should  only  be  cut  up  into  mince-meat.  Prudence  is  the 
mother  of  safety,  remember  1" 

"Armslpou  dioi^  said  a  Basque;  ««are  we  not  in  num- 
bers, and  can't  we,4Sy  a  sudden  rush,  make  ouflselves  mas- 
ters of  the  crew?"      ,  . 

"  Then,  by  jingo,  has  not  each  a  knife-blade  ?»  added  the 
ProvencaL 

'And  arms?"  pursued  the  Wurtembergian,  exhibiting 
his  athletic  trunk. 

"We  are  sixty  against  thirty,  mordieur  maintained 
Molin. 

"All  that  is  very  fine;  still,"  interposed  the  trembler, 
^"but 

«  But,  but ;  you  have  always  buts.  Tou  mutton-hearted 
fellowl"  retorted  Tronchard,  with  an  impatient  air.  "  Come, 
quick  I  what  signifies  your  buts  ?  or  I  wiU  hurl  you  by  the 
starboard  among  the  fish  tribe." 

"Hush J  Let  us  not  get  excited  at  all,  my  very  dear 
friend,"  said  the  MarseilJai*,.  «  Anger  is  a  bad  counsellor. 
Let  us  ohat  like  people  used  to  g^d  company." 


"J  • 


06 


'J ' 


"  Por  ctioa  /"  rosomed  the  Basque,  "  it  is  time  to  com- 
mence the  work." 

"  Yes,  yes !"  exclaimed  several  voices. 

"  I  approve  of  you,  my  brave  I" 

**  And  after,  what  shall  we  do?"  grumbled  the  reluctant 
Swiss.  ^  „]     ,^^^ 

These  words  fell  like  a  refrigerator  on  the  &rdor  of  th^ 
rebels. 

"  After  I  Time  enough  for  that ;  we  will  consult  with 
each  other.  When  the  dish  is  served  one  eats ;  nothing 
more  natural." 

"If  it  is  not  a  poisoned  dish." 

"How  is  that?" 

"Eh  I  Suppose  we  have  dispatched  all  the  equipage  ad 
patres,  the  pilot  at  their  3iead " 

"The  pilot,  nonsense  I  It  is  not  for  thfe  pilot  we  are 
preparing  the  sauce  j  quite  the  contrary.  The  ^ilot  I  love 
and  esteem.*' 

"Bravo,  Molin,  bravo,  por  diosP*  said  the  Basque. 
"You  have  as  much  wit  as  a  doctor  of  arts,  and  I  promise 
you  a  CEOwn  of  hemp  as  aipccompense — ^■" 

*'lSro  jesting  now,"  interrupted  the  Marseillais,  who  had 
coAsXituted  himself  chief  of  the  plot.  "  This  ia  what  I  pro- 
pose. Open  your  ears  as  wide  as  the  hatches,  my  gentle 
lainbs.  We  are  to  arm  ourselves  with  all  the  pieces  of 
iron  we  can  find,  then  force  the  hatchway,  and  handsomely 
precipitate  ourselves  on  the  first  cabin,  while  the  remainder 
attend  to  the  second  cabin.  The  latter  will  seize  the  sail- 
ors. But  no  noise — no  blood.  The  others  follow  me.  Do 
all  agree  to  this  ?** 


t--.,--- 


9d 


u 


Yes,"  wis  the  nnaniinons  reply. 


"Very  well,  my  adored  jewels,"  continued  Molin ;  "you 
will  await  the  word  like  angels,  and  I  am  sure  we  shall  do 
up  our  little  affair  in  excellent  style." 

"But  all  this  does  not  tell  US  what  we  are  to  do,"  said 
the  Swiss.   • 

"  By  Bacchus  I"  replied  the  SiciUan,  «  what  will  the  rats 
do  when  there  are  no  more  cats  ?" 
"What  will  they  dor 

"Yes,  what  will  they  do?"  -->' 

"Oh,  my  faith— —" 
*'  They  govern,  imbecile." 

"Superb.  Pepolil  Your  reasoning  is  superb.  You 
are  worth  your  own  weight  in  gold,"  exclaimed  Tronchard. 
"  Come  here,  imtil  I  embrace  you." 

"It  is  not  absolutely  necessary.  I  hare  manners,"  re- 
torted Pepoli,  with  the  gesture  of  an  offended  maiden. 

"Are  all  determined?"  asked  Molin,  whom  these  digres- 
sions wearied. 

"  Yes,"  shouted  the  whole  crowd  of  convicts.  "Death 
to  the  Marquis  de  la  Roche  I" 

"  Silence,  silence  I"  said  the  Marseillais,  extending  his 
hand.  "Let  us  pl-oceed  without  noise.  This  is  the  only 
way  we  can  succeed.    Gome  here.  Wolf." 

The  German  bowed  his  colossi  form,  theheight  of  which 
would  extend  at  least  a  foot  above  the  steerage,  and  ap- 
proached the  chief  conspirator. 

"You  see  this  pannel?"  said  the  latter,  indicatmg  with 
his  finger  the  lid  of  the  hatchway. 
A  Bort  of  grunt  would  translate  the  reply  of  the  ^ant. 


..  jtH^v.&^jf.ii.t'H,' 


l-fM 


97 

"  Well,'  by  jingo,  my  brave !  don't  you  think  this  pannel 
will  annoy  us  tlevilislily  ?" 

'    "  Oh,  oh,  der  Teu/ei;'  said  Wolf.    "It  is  not  difficult  to 
remove  it."  '  °  "* 

Pronouncing  these  words,  he  made  an  arch  of  himself 
under. the  trap-door,  so  that  his  broad  shoulders  touched 
the  extremities  of  it.  He  expanded  his  lower  limbs,  and 
gradually  straightening  his  spine,  made  the  irons  fly  out 
'of  the  boards.  A  crackUng,  and  au  "  om/"  of  satisfaction, 
angounced  his  victory. 

The  clatter  of  the  waves  against  the  sides  of  the  Castor, 
smothered  the  noise  of  the  rupture. 

While  this  terrible  stonn  was  acciraiulating  in  the  steer- 
age, Chedotel  was  the  prey  of  a  conflict  scarcely  less  ter- 
rible. ^  His  hair  stood  of  an  end,  large  drops  of  perspiration 
flowed  down  his  forehead,  and  his  niils  beat  his  breast. 
All  of  a  sudden  he  seemed  to  arm  himself  with  a  desperate 
resolution ;  he  left  his  cabin  and  proceeded  to  thi^t  of  Guy- 
onne. 

Extended  in  her  day  clothes  ou  a  pallet,  the  young  girl 
was  falling  asjigep.  A  smoking  lamp  afforded  a  glimmering 
light.  Chedotel  trembled  so  much  in  entering  that  he  was 
obliged  to  support  himself  against  the  wainscoting  to  pre- 
vent himself  from  falling.  Here  thei-e  was  a  minute  of  hesi- 
tation ;  his  heart  beat  as  if  it  woxild  break  his  chest. 

Struck  by  the  glimmei'ing  light  of  the  lamp,  the  profile 
of  the  pilot  was  frightful  to  look  at;  he  might  easily  have 

f 

been  taken  for  one  of  those  demons  whose  horrible  fifjures 
are  found.,  sculptured  in  the  granite  of  the  old  basilisks  of 
die  Middle  Ages. 


-^ 


"J  I 


■tJl^^^&^^iJ^iLi^^i^S:^: 


'(^gJi^i^iti^^^jai^^' 


n^Jtl' 


Jiti^   ~ajitMaF£i.! 


E**i«f-'T;  • 


»**' 


98 

Suddenly  the  pretended  Tvon  moved  herself  feebly  on 
her.  couch,  her  arm  around  her  beautiful  neck,  a.sweet  smile 
phyed  on  her  halfclosed  lips,  which  allowed  the  name 
•'  John,"  to  escape. 

Immediately  the  hesitation  of  Chedotel  ceased,  a  wild 
enthusiasm  seized  him ;  he  extinguished  the  light  and  pre- 
cipitated himself  towards  the  bed. 

Awaking  in  surprise,  Guyonne  prepared  for  a  determ- 
ined resistance,  when  frightful  imprecations  reverberated 
above  the  cabm. 

"Death  to  the  Marquis  de  la  Rochol  Death  to  the 
Marquis  de  la  Roche  1" 


St/xia^      ^1 


sHwiw^t' 


'  t^  .-?■■ 


CHAPTER  VL 


RB3"VOIjX    ON"    BOA.IlI>. 


"Well,  with  sixty  months  shouted  "  Death  to  the  !Mar- 
quis  de  la  Roche  I"  and  the  immensity  of  God,  with  its 
solemn  voice,  echoed  "Death  to  the  Marquis  de  la  Roche!" 

The  night  was  still  bright  and  beautiful,  like  a  maiden  on 
a  hohday,  and  the  Castor  gUded  on  gayly  without  caring 
any  more  for  the  frightful  vociferations  alluded  to  than  the 
eagle  does  for  the  roaring  of  the  tempest.         ^ 

On  land  a  revolt  has  always  something  in  it  that  inspires 
secret  flight ;  but  on  sea,  it  creates  terror.  On  land  it  can 
be  avoided  oir  suppressed  by  a  thousand  different  means ; 
on  sea,  flight  is  impossible.  The  abyss  is  under  your  feet, 
the  unknown  over  your  head,  and  death  around  you.  The 
revolt  must  be  confronted,  grappled,  crushed  by  the  force 
which  produced  it — ^by  strength  of  mind,  or  its  fury  sub* 
-  mitted  to. 

Behold  I  A  thousand  lightnings  flash,  red,  like  the  sun, 
extmguishing  themselves  in  the  dark  rage  of  an  approach* 


Xt 


^•iL.^ 


^■^■ikiit."*  i.a   i-Lil.    i 


A.i^  ^  ■«■  ■«i'4(jf.^i(i(l.1*.j 


■l^lM^l 


^\ 


100 

ing  tempest,  stifle  their  smoky  flames  on  the  deck  of  the 
Castor,  and  spread  over  the  vessc^l  colors  as  lugubrious  as 
those  of  a  conflagration.     Through  this  light  appeared 
strange  figures,  savage  types,  whi(|h  seemed  as  if  vomited 
from  the  gloomy  empire  in,  an  access  of  fury.    These'  men 
brandislied  in  one  hand  torches,  in  the  other  oars,  bars  of 
wood  and  iron,  pieces  of  chain;  instruments  of  every  kind. 
In  short,  they  miglit  be  regarded  as  a  satanic' assembly  re- 
turning from  an  infernal  orgie.  ' 

They  surge  tumultuously  dn  the  sides  of  the  Castor,  rush 
to  the  main-mast  and  divide  themselves  into  two  bands,  one 
led  by  the  German,  T^^olf,  towards  the  forecastle,  occupied 
by  the  sailors,  the  other  by  the  Mars^illais,  Molin,  towards 
the  rear,  occupied  by  thelMarqois  lie  la  Roche^and  his 
suite. 

^  Already  the  man  atrthe  helm,  intiniidated  by  the  explo-^ 
sion  of  the  revolt,  abandoned  his  post,  to  seek  refuge  in  the 
rigging.  The  barque,  left  without  direction  to  the  whistling 
of  the  wmds,  roUed  about  and  threatened  to  founder,  when 
Chedotel  debouched  on  the  deck. 

Wilham  de  la  Roche,  John  de  Ganay,  several  other  gen- 
^tlemen  and  Guyonne,  arrived  there  at  the  same  time. 

w  Death  to  the  marquis  I  Death  to  the  marquis  I"  shouted 
-the  piercing  voice  ofMoIin. 

l     And  a  sinister  voice  repUed:  "Death  to  the  marquis  I ' 
Death  to  the  marquis  I" 

"  By  Christ  I  we  shall  succumb  to  the  band !"  exclaimed 
C^iddotel,  remarking,  that  the  Castor  had  come  to  the 
wind,  and  that  the  main-sail  was  h^  loose. 


ij.  <^i  -* 


w 


101  ■  • 

lie  ran  immediately  to  the  bar,  and  gave  it  a  vigorous 
movement.  By  degrees  the  s|iip  recovered  herself,  and 
continued  her  former  course. 

Diffing  this  t^o  De  la  Roche  addressed  the  rebels. 

"  Retire,  dogs !  or  I  will  have  you  all  hanged  to  the  yard- 
ann,  to  servo  as  food  for  the  vultures." 

The  first  summons  was  rendered  inaudible  by  the  howl- 
ing of  the  insurrection. 

"You  do  not  understand  this  language,"  pursued  the 
marquis.  "  Well,  you  will  perhaps  understand  this  bet- 
ter !" 

In  pronouncing  these  words,  he  fired  with,  one  of  tho 
pistols  he  held  in  his  hand. 

"  By  the  beard  of  my  respectable  burgomaster,  I  believe 
'I  have  received  all,"  said  Tronchard,  extending  his  arm 
and  leaning  his  face  against  the  side  of  the  ship. 

Struck  with  fear,  the  crowd  of  insurgents  retreated,  but 
only  to  return  proipptly,  electrified  by  the  cry  of  their 

chief: 

"  Nonsense,  are  you  going  to  retreat  now  like  scabby    ■ 
sheep  I    Let  us  revenge  our  friend — our  friend  Tronchard, 
on  this  ruflian  of  a  marquis,  and  his  satanic  company." 

"  Yes,^or  Dies"  replied  the  Basque ;  "  let  us  be  revenged, 
let  us  be  revenged,  comrades!" 

The  clamors  rose  higher  and  higher.    It  seemed  as  if  the 

Castor  had  been  transformed  into  a  pandemonium.  Pressed 

•by  the  human  sea  which  mounted  still  behind  him,  Molin 

found  himself  suddenly  transported  to  the  halyard,  within 

two  feet  of  De  la  Roche.    The  former  was  armed  with  a 


:l 


tfkA^  J- 


*1Q2 


\ 


long  cutlaflfl,  the  blade  of  which  darted  yellow  scintiUations 
by  the  light  of  the  torchcH.  William  de  la  Uoche,  absorbed 
wholly  in  tho  attitude  of  the  rebels,  had  not  observed  tho 
movement  of  his  enemy.  The  eyes  of  Molin  sparkled  like 
carbuncJt'S,  and  he  rushed  at  thQ  marquis.  But  before  ho 
was  able  to  perpetrate  the  homicide  whicli  he  projected  a 
stroke  of  a  hatchet,  energetically  applied,  cut  off  his  arm  ; 
tho  ,pnin  caused  the  b»ndit  to  groan. 

"Ah,"  murmured  he,  perceiving  Guyonne,  "it  is  you, 
snake,  that  has  maimed  me  I     You  have  a  solid  fist,  my 

calf,— but "  ■   '  .  ' 

He  fainted  from  loss  of  blood.  ' 

A  discharge  of  musketiy  attracted  tho  attention  of  tho 
agsailants  at  the  same  moment.  This  volley  emanated  from 
the  pww,  where,  the  sailors  sustained  a  violent  assault  from 
.   Wolf  and  bis  party. 

At  the  first  signal  of  the  enieute,  the  man  at  the  catheads 
gave  a  shout  of  alarm.    All  tho  sailors  quitted  their  ham- 
mocks at  once,  and  seized  such  arms  as  were  nearest  to 
hand.  Then  by  order  of  the  master  of  the  crew  they  formed 
themselves  in  battle  iftray,  and  waited  in  silence,broke  the  door 
of  their  cabin,  in  order  to  receive  them  with  a  cross-fire.  Such 
a  reception  was  well  calculated  to  rout  the  uncertain  people 
who  had  hoped  that  the  sailors,  far  from  opposmg  their  en- 
tei-prise,  Avould  jWn  them.    Five  victims  made  bythis  vol- 
ley,, filled  them  with  consternation.     Some  retreated  in 
confusion,  the  band  headed  by  Molin,  others  ran  to  take  re- 
Inge  in  the  steerage,  others  finally,  with  the  Wurtembergian, 
Wolf  at  their  head,  attempted  to  stonn  the  entrenchment 
of  the  marines. 


^ 


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V     - 


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^ 


The  diflorder  was  at  its  height  on  tho  dock  of  the  Caatdr ; 
for  in  tho  melee  tho  greater  part  of  tho  torohca  had  been 
extinguished,  and  thoUhadcs  of  night  began  to  regain  their 
predominance.  Some  pieces  of  rope,  forgotten  by  the  he- 
roes of  the  drama,  liarasscd  them  in  turn,  tripping  them  as 
they  attempted  fresh  attacks  on  the  sailors     * 

"A/a/o<,"  exclaimed  tho  marquis. 

Guyonno  deaccnded  to  the  store-room,  and  returned  with 
the  object  demanded.  Do  la  Rociie  lighted  a  match,  and 
approaching  a  swivel-gim  which  John  de  Ganay  had  just 
pointed  against  the  rebels. 

"Nqw,"  said  he,  "let  all  retura  to  ^e  stcer&ge,  or  I  will- 
fire  this  piece."  0t 

His  gesture  and  accent  were  irresistible.    To  doubt  that 
bo  was  ready  to  accomplish  his  threat,  would  be  folly.  The 
rebels  obeyed  in  silence,  with  tho  exception  of  Wolf,  Pepoli, 
and  five  or  six  others.    The  latter,  however^  had  not  heard 
the  injunction ;  but  had  they  done  po,  they  probably  would 
have  paid  no  attention  to  it.    Rushing  against  the  sailors, 
before  they  had  time  to  reload  their^uskets,  they  were 
attacked  with  stocks  and  barrels.    The  only  weapon  the 
German  "^iant  had,  was  a  bar  of  the  capstan,  which  he  used 
asa  club,  and  with  so  much  dexterity  that  each  'of  his 
blows  was  equivalent  to  a  passport  to  eternity.    The  Sici- 
lian on  his  part  did  wonders  with  a  sabre,  picked  up  during 
the  fight.    Their  other  companions  seconded  them  worthi- 
ly, so  that  the  victory  would  have  undoubtedly  turned  in 
favor  of  the  convicts,  had  it  not  been  for  the  cowardipfe  of 
those  %ho  retired. 


«@ 


■L^  1     wi^ijUf- 


104 


"You,  brigand,  </eT  r.»ir«//"  said  Wolf,  raiHinghU  ro- 
doubtable  ^ar  over  tho  c.-a.uum  of  the  mastor  of  the  crow; 

"And  you,  ugly  noddlc-hcad  !"  said  a  cabin-boy,  kneeling 
inhi8hamn,ock,.whoro  ho  had  Hccreto<I  him8f..lf,and  discharg- 
ing his  pistol  in  tho  very  countenance  of  the  Ilerouhes. 

"/)cr  7hi/e/,"  stijl  exclaimed  the  colossus,  falling  al^fi 

It  was  his  last  breath,  and  with  it  expired  tho  revolt. 


,.  > 


rj», 


■Htf 


*-  ■  -r-'^ 


'i'i^^^i'''^^^'mMi^^^m&4r>A 


^-IP 


la  ro- 

sling 
mrg- 


^  -  1 


l^t 


\ 


IMUAI.^  ^> 


'v.'    '  ..-v*. 


CTTAPTKR  Vn 


T  H  K     K  X  K  C  TJ  X  I  O  N. 


Next  day  in  the  afternoon  the  Castor  presented  a  sad 
spectacle. 

The  day  was,  indeed,  beautiful,  tlio  firmament  pure  and 
sefenc,  the  sun  warm  and  viviying.  T\\e  greatness  of  God 
displayed  itself  in  all  its  magnificence  aroubd  the  ship,  bat 
the  very  contrast  of  these  majestic  beauties  enhanced  the 
molaiicholy  of  the  scene  which  wo  are  about  to  describe. 

Seated  on  an  estrade,  dressed  in  his  costume  as  Gover- 
nor-General of  Canada,  and  having  at  his  right  the  pilot  Ch»- 
dotel,  at  his  left  Viscount  de  Ganay,  the  Marquis  de  la  Roche 
passed  a  sad  glance  over  the  ocean.  At  his  feet,  chained 
two  by  two,  and  guarded  by  sailors  with  loaded  muskets, 
were  all  the  convicts;  with  the  exception  of  Yvon.  Abovfe 
tlieir  heads,  suspended  from  the  rigging,  were  eight  corpses,  f 
among  which  were  observed  those  of  the  Flemming,  Xron- 
chard,  and  of  the  German,  Wolf. 


\  \  \ 


,vi. 


%.\ 


-     it''-        4.    _^',„ 


1   *.*■    J-      J1.1.S.., 


vs 


nf  rr  'i^i:  I' ■$'':, 


i  A' 


*  :!<:. '1/'. 


'%'  9  W-^  %- 


yi:- 


<^iS?* 


'-\» 


106 

-  Birds  of  prey  hovcrccTaround  the  ship,  piercing  the  air 
with  their  cries,  and  m  the  foamy  furrows  made  by  the 
Castor  one  could  distinguish  a  dark,  scaly  object,  following 
the  bark  with  stubborn  persistence.  It  was  a  shark  thai 
scented  the  dead. 

After  two  hours  the  drum  was  beaten;  thenceforth  the 
undertone  conversation  and  whispering  ceased;  aU  eyes 
turaed  towards  a  trap-door  at  the  prow.  First  PepoK,  the 
Sicilian,  was  seen  with  his  hands  tied  behind  his  back,  then 
the  Marseillais  Molin,  carried  by  two  sailors,  and  finaUy 
the  Basque,  and  a  Burgunclian,  named  Francis,  nicknamed 
the  "  Toper." 

Molin,  notwithstanding  the  loss  of  his  right  arm,  retain- 
ed  his  full  consciousness.    His  features,  contracted  by  suf- 
still  bespoke  pride,  and  a  sardonic  smile  played 
corner  of  his  discolored  lips. 

^'epoli  and  Francis,"  said  the  Topei^  'i#re  always  fond 
S(f  jokes."  - 

^for  rope,"  said  the  former,  "it  always  seemed  to  me 
that  I  mW  finish  with  a  rope;  but,  on  my  soul,  I  h^d  no 
idea  that  l)shouId  have  the  chance  of  dying  in  the  arms  of 
a  virgm.'* 

«In  fact,^'  said  the  latter,  "there  is  some  hemp  that  does 
honor  to  the  soil  where  it  was  produced." 

"  And  to  the  shuttle  where  it  was  twisted." 

Vust  see,  Pepoli,  how  the  brave  Wolf  draws  up  his 

tongue!  Will  it  be  saidthatie  is  waiting  for  a  draught  of 

beer  to  quench  his  thirst  ?" 


ferin^ 


•^i^ 


tmi 


'/H  Y' 


vmf 


g^?  107 

"  The  drunken  German  goes  F' 

"And  that^nimal,  Tronchard,  who  has  caused  himself  to 
be  flmncd  b^^the  birds  of  heaven." 

"  Slill  more  refineriient  than  that !" 
,  A  second  rolling  of  the  di'um  put  an  end  to  these  low 
jokes. 

I  De  la  Roche  stood  up  and  ordered:  "iNTumbers  31,  43, 
50." 

,,  "Present!"  replied  Molin,  Pepoli,  and  Francis  in  turn. 

"  You  are  each  condemned  to  be  hanged,"  replied  the 
marquis.  "  Recommend  your  souls  to  God.  You  have  but 
half  an  hour.  May  this  example  serve  as  a  lesson  to  those 
who. would  in  future  attempt  to  revolt  against  my  au- 


thority." 


\ 


On  the  delivery  of  this  inexorable  sentence  a  shudder  of 
fright  passed  over  the  crowd  of  convicts ;  the  victim^  alone 
manifested  no  emotion. 

"  This  is  what  I  call  precision,"  said  Pepoli. 

"  In  my  view  of  it,  it  is  a  good  way  to  prevent  people 
from  languishing,"  added  Francis. 

"  Por  DioSy  it  is  long  since  I  wished  to  have  a  tete-a-tete 
with  Monsieur  Satan ;  how  things  will  come  about !" 

"  Holy  Bacchus,  my  divine  patron,  that  the  wine  below 
may  be  as  generous  as  in  Burgundy  I"  added  Francis. 

A  third  rolling  of  the  drum  announced  that  the  fatal 
hour  had  arrived.  All  the  exiles  kneeled,  and  two  minutes 
after  the  grating  of  pulleys,  the  croaking  of  frightened  birds 
of  prey,  and  some  inarticulate  sounds,  formed  the  funeral 
knell  of  the  criminals. 


.■  1.. 


\ 


■  ( 


.^"^  -  M% 


108 


Meantime  the  day  was  beautiful,  the  firmament  pure  and 
^erene,  the  sun  warm  and  vivifying,  and  the  greatness  of 
God  displayeditself  in  aU  its  magnificence  around  the  ship 


'*■■  Vs**' 


a  A      , 


%•. 


-.fr-.-*- 


/^l 


V^  *   fl  -fi 


r  y^WW-^rV* 


■  i'~f^''  1  -^  \    (- 


'T^rT^« 


re  and 

less  of 
3  ship. 


>■  ti^  D  '  ^ 


ciiAPTER  ym. 

THE  LOVE  Oin  A.  miSHKR'WOMA.N  AND 

We  now  return  to  one  or  two  of  our  principal  personages 
whom  the  incidents  we  have  just  related  have  forced  us  to 
leave  under  a  sort  of  veU. 

It  will  doubtless  be  remembered  that  Cuyonne  had  saved 
the  life  of  Viscount  de  Ganay  during  a  storm ;  it  will  also 
be  remembered  feat  she  saved  the  life  of  William  de  la 
Roche  duiing  the  revolt.  These  two  traits  prove  that  to 
the  heroism  of  the  heart  the  step-daughter  of  Perrin  united 
the  heroism  gf  courage,  and  presence  of  mind :  a  tiinity 
of  virtues  which  unfortunately  are  not  conmion  among 
men. 

The  viscount  and  the  marquis  paid,  in  turn,  to  the  pre- 
tended Yvon  the  debt  of  their  gratitude.  The  former  in 
admitting  her  among  the  waiters  of  the  cabin ;  the  latter  in 
rendering  homage  to  her  bravery  in  presence  of  the  whole 
crew,  by  promising  to  send  her  back  to  France  free. 


.Ik-        etiii  x^t,  \, 


.  ? 


«-3* 


110 

The  young  girl  had,  therefore,  attained  a  better  position 
than  she  had  ever  dared  to  hope  for;  and  she  could  con- 
template the  future  M'ithout  much  apprehension.  But  too 
often,  fortune  does  things  by  halves.  In  giving  us  a  fuU 
hand  on  one  side,  she  dips  our  wings  on  the  other.  Two 
passions  already  struggled  with  each  other  in  the4ouc.hts 
of  Guyonne :  she  loved  Viscount  de  Ganay,  and  she  hated 
the  pilot  Chedotel. 

These  two  passions  were  engendered  in  her  breast  at  the 
same  time,  took  root  together,  and  gained  strength  in  sup- 
porting each  other. 

The  day  of  embarkation,  Chedotel  had  brutalized  the 
young  girl ;  John  de  Ganay  had  taken  her  under  his  protec- 
tion; such  was  the  commencement  of  this  double  senti- 
ment. 

First,  Guyonne  mismiderstood  herself  as  to  the  nature  of 
her  penchant  for  the  equerry..  She  reg^r^fef  it  as  the  result 
of  a  hvely  gratitude,  but  she  had  passed  the  age  at  which 
one  can  not  comprehend  himself;  if  her  soul  had  remained 
free  from  all  tenderness,  foreign  to  her  family,  a  penetrat- 
mg  intelligence  had  taught  her  to  seek  and  find  the  cause 
of  the  feeling  she  experienced.     Guyonne,  in  short,  dis- 
cerned  promptly  that  it  was  love  which  made  her  fear  and 
desire  the  presence  of  John  de  Ganay;  and  that  it  was  love 
which  impurpled  her  cheeks  when  she  spoke  to  him,  and 
caused  her  voice  to  tremble  when  she  replied. 
This  discovery  filled  her  with  fright. 

mat  an  abyss  separated  her,  the  poor  daughter  of  a 
fisherman  and  of  a  serf,  from  the  wealthy  Viscount  de 


*-v'"W 


111 

Ganay,  son  ci  one  of  the  most  powerful  lofSs  of  lower 
Burgundy — ^how  was  this  abyss  to  be  crossed  ?  To  think 
of  it  seemed  the  climax  of  insanity;  besides,  did  not  John 
love  another,  the  beautiful  Laura  of  Kerskoen,  the  manoress 
of  munerous  vassals,  the  unrivaled  beauty,  the  pearl  of 
Brittany?  Surely  it  seemed  impudent  effrontery  on  the 
part  erf  a  poor  girl  like  Guyonne  to  aspire  to  the  hand  of 
the  equerry  of  Monseigneur  de  la  Roche. 

But  love  reasons  in  vain ;  when  the  object  which  excites 
it  is  worthy,  the  more  it  aacumulates  reasons  to  extinguish 
itself,  the  more  it  acquu'es  life  and  consistence.  The  less 
reason  it  has  to  be,  the  stronger  it  is ;  the  greater  the  so- 
cial distance  between  the  lover  and  the  beloved,  the  greater 
the  force  of  attraction  between  the  former  and  the  latter. 

Guyonne  sought  a  remedy  in  prayer;  prayer  inflamed 
her  imagination,  and  exalted  her  love.  But  the  course  of 
that  love  had  changed.  She  resolved  to  devote  herself  to 
tlie  happiness  of  the  young  man.  This  determination  re- 
stored calmness  to  her  mind ;  without,  however,  establish- 
ing lasting  peace.  She  accustomed  herself  to  the  idea  of 
one  day  serving  the  wife  off  the  viscount,  and  nursing  their 
children.  Certamly,  it  required  robust  piety,  and  a  resolute 
character  to  consecrate  one's  self  to  such  a  martyrdom ;  but 
as  we  have  already  said,  Guyonne  was  the  type  of  incarnate 
moral  purpose. 

It  is  not  strange,  then,  that  in  the  course  of  two  weeks, 
the  love  of  the  fisher-girl  for  the  viscount  assumed  such 
\  ast  proportions.  At  sea,-  where  the  circle  of  impressions 
is  limited,  all  the  movements  of  the  heart  are  for  this  very 


112     ' 

r2T  "'°"  "t"''  "'"'  ""=  "'°^'  "'""^  -■— t-ee  ao- 
qmres  over  our  facuUies  the  pcver  of  a  veritable  event 

.  _ae^  of  has  liberator.    Perhaps,  had  he  not  been  undo,  the 

Thr:  °'r*^'  ^^'™''  *"  -'  -">"  >»-  been  astln! 
.shed  at  certam  movements  of  Tvon;  perhaps  he  would 
have  remarked,  that  sometimes  wheu  he  thought  he  2 
no  seen,  ie  regarded  him  with  laognid  and  moist  eyes; 
eal^'  "".T       I^anra.  always  interposed  between  th 
equeny  and  the  pretended  bandit,  and  never  did  the  idea 
0    ur  o  hm.  that  the  heart  of  a  loving  young  g^  ^^at  Z 
der  that  masculme  bostume. ,  Nevertheless,  having  one  day 
«T>nsed  her  before  a  erucifi.,  and  in  an  attitude.^  devo^ 
tion,  wh,ch  attested  the  warmth  of  her  reUgiouB  sentiment, 
ho  could  not  help  saying:  ""kuis, 

"  Then  you  believe  in  God  f" 

"In  God,  monscigneurl    Who  does  not?" 

"Too  many  ingrates,"  replied  the  equerry j  "but  when 
we  believe  in  God  we  are  afraid  of  offending  him." 

"  This,  indeed,  is  my  greatest  fear." 

John  deGanay  smiled,  and  this  smile  brought  the  pmple 
to  the  cheeks  of  the  young  girl.  -  »'    r  "     , 

.      "How.  did  you  ally  yom-  fear  of  God  with  your  relations 
to  these  miserable  wrecks  of  vice  and  debauchery  ?» 

At  this  4„estion  the  comitenance  of  Guyonne  changed 
from  purple  to  crimson,  and  'burning  tears  sparkled  on  her 
eyebds. 

"It  is  aU  the  more  strange,"  pursued  te,  "because  you 
belonged  to  an  honest  fenrily,  in  the  midst  of  which  you 
had  only  to  imbibe -good  principles,"  -  • 


,  .-..KaUittlaiu.  ..^ 


i*ijws 


^ 


T 


113 

One  can  imagine  the  wound  which  this  accusation  gave 
poor  Guyonne,  unfortunately  justified  as  it  was  by  appear-' 
ances.      Incapable  of  restraining  herself  any  longer,  sne 
,  sobbed  aloud. 

"Come,  don't  cry,  child,"  said  he,  interpreting,  errone- 
ously, the  expression  of  her  afiliction;  "try  to  repept,  and 
God  wiU  pardon  you,  as  those  you  have  offendcdrpn  earth 
have  already  done." 

A  painftJ  sign  was  the  sole  response  of  the  poor  girl. 

The  accusation  under  which  she  labored,  was,  however, 
the  least  of  her  sorrows ;  she  had  a  much  heavier  burden 
to  carry ;  her  aversion  for  Chedotel,  and  the  absurd  passion 
ofthelatter  for  her. 

This  passion  commenced  the  very  day  they  embarked. 

It  is  necessary,  in  order  to  understand  our  narrative,  to 
relate  here  some  anterior  events. 

When  John  de  Ganay  was  wrested  from  death  by  Guy- 
onne, the  clothes  of  both  were  drenched  with  water.  The 
equerry,  having  changed  his  costume,  ordered  another  tini- 
form  to  be  given  to  Yvon.  The  latter  hastened  to  take  off 
the  wet  clothes,  and  to  put  on  those  brought  her  by  the 
valet  of  the  viscount.  This  done,  Guyonne  returned  on 
deck,  in  order  to  set  her  smock-frock  to  dry.  A  pocket  of 
the  frock  contained  the  note  given  her  by  Johnde  Ganay, 
to  visit  her  brother  Yvon,  at  the  prison  of  St.  Malo.  By 
chance  this  pass,  which  simply  contained  the  name  of  the 
af»plicant,  written  with  red  ink,  and  the  coat  of  arms  of  the 
viscount,  by  chance,  we  say,  this  pass  had  dropped  from 
the  pocket  which  concealed  it,  on  the  rigging,  where  it  re- 


I  114 

mtoea  ai  night    Ne.t  earning,  Chedotel,  while  having 
the  deck  washed,  perceived  the  object,  picked  it  up,  a„d 
.w    e  a„  oath  on  «ecihg  .hat  it  inclosed.     At  t>,L„. 
ment  Guyonne  came  for  her  frock.    Master  Chedotel  wa, 
.     "truck  w.th  her  foe  form  and  beauty;  of  which  certain 
appearances  indicated  a  feminine  nature.    RecalUng  then 
Wwn  remarks  on  the  name  he  had  seen  on  the  ^s,  he' 
conceived  some  suspicion.  The  espionage  cost  him  nothing-  . 
„  he  watched  the  disguised  convict,  and  the  same  night  Us 
sasp.c.o„s  were  justified.    He  knew  the  se.  of  number  40. 
_   The  Idea  of  a  generous  sentiment  can  no  more  germinate 
m  «ome  mmds  than  a  grain  of  com  can  grow  "on  sld 
and  Chedotel's  was  one  of  those  minds. 
Guyonne  could  be  nothing  more  in  his  opinion  than  a 

Male,  had  des,red  to  transport  her  miserable  existence,  and 

Idea  of  the  plot  was  to  pat  the  ma,qds  on  his  guard  in 
order  to  obviate,  by  an  immediate  incarceration  of  the  gir 
the  d,so,.de™  which  her  presence  would  occasion  if  she 
happened  to  be  discovered.    Then  a  thought  occm-red  to 

"Huml"  said  he,  scratching  his  head,  "  God  pardon  me, 
she  .s  no.  ug^y;  she  has  a  temptmg  form-it  would  be  ^ 
good  ,dea  .f  I  could  reserve  this  pnBet  for  myself  -' 

But  he  soon  discovered  that  h4  was  strangely  mistaken 
7  '^S"d  to  the  young  girl,  /o  his  infamou!  p™poSf„ ^ 
.1.0  rephed  with  a  firmness  that  stupefied  him.   Kesi   an" 

l:r  W      .r/^'-"-P-i™.the  passion  intH 
dehMum.    We  will  not  report  either  his  promises  or  ijs 


j  115 

threats  to  Guyonne.  it  has  been  seen  what  a  crime  Che- 
dotel  would  have  conimitted,  in  order  to  satisfy  his  brutal 
liV^t,  had  not  the  breaking  out  of  the  insurrection  just  at 
tiie  moment  cut  short  his  odious  attempt.  It  is  now  easy 
to  miderstand  the  hatred  of  Guyonne  for  the  pilot.  Ilad 
she  not  even  loved  John  de  Ganay  with  that  pure  and  en- 
thusiastic love  which  we  have  endeavored  to  portray,  his 
gross  sensuality  would  have  fjKv^^olted  her.  This  brute, 
with  a  human  face,  could  inspire  npthing  but  contempt; 
whether  he  loved,  or  hated,  he  could  only  inspire  invincible 
disgust. 

Poor  Guyonne  I  She  often  wished  to  discard  the  aver- 
sion against  this  monster;  yes,  one  hour  after  the  revolt  of 
the  convicts,  she  implored  God  in  fevor  of  the  scoundrel, 
who  had  done  his  best  to  make  her  his  victim.  Her  situa- 
tion was  frightful — to  love  and  not  b(p  known  to  detest 
and  be  loved ! 

There  are  moral  tortures  a  thousand  times  more  cruel 
than  physical  tortures. 


ce 

• 

i 

■•■          .      _  ■ 

a 
is 

/ 

■   • 

v 
J 

!-»' 

■■ 

t 

t 

rau^f^.-l-'N 


.. .  w  ■sJ5e*  i  \-  i 


/ 


CHAPTER  IX 


^P'-A.MIN 


It  seems  as  jf  misfortune  had  extended  its  saWe  win^ 
over  the  expedition  of  the  Marquis  de  la  Roche,  as  over 
the  majority  of  those  that  preceded  it.  As  much'as  the 
discovery  and  colonization  of  South  America  were  favored 
by  fortune,  as  much  were  those  of  North  America 
disfavored  by  fate. 

It  is  not,surprising  that  the  French  G6vemment  treated 
with  great  negligence,  not  to  say  iU-will,  efforts  to  found 
estabhshments  on  the  banks  of  the  St.  Lawrence.    When 
Cartier  saikd  from  St.Malo,  the  20th  of  April,  1534  to  ex 
plore  Labrador,  it  was  generaUy  thought  that,  according, 
to  the  example  of  Columbus,  Cortez,  Vespucius,  Pizarro" 
ct<^,  he  would  plant  the  flag  of  his  king  over  countries, 
rich  m  mmes  of  gold  and  sUver;  when,  on  his  return,  he 

broughtnothingbutchagrined,exhaustedsailorswho,asthey 
said,  had  only  found  "black  forests,  deep  snow,  and  thick  ice  » 
^rancis  I.  felt  so  much  annoyed  that  he  refused  the  bold^ 


rT7''i^,i:?^'*r 


117 

navigator  a  private  audience.  Thanks,  however,  to  the  so- 
licitations of  Philip  de  Cabot,  Charles  de  Mouy,  and  some 
other  noblemen,  Cartier  was  able  to  resume  his  explora- 
tions the  following  year.  It  is  suffidieSitly  known  what 
dangers  he  confronted  in  the  course  of  this  second  voyage, 
Avhich  led  to  the  discovery  of  the  country,,  since  known 
under  the  general  name  of  Canada ;  it  is  also  known  what 
a^terrible  winter  these  adventurers  passed  on  the  banks  of  , 
theSt.  Lawrence,  and  whafra concert  of  maledictions  saluted 
the  disembarkation  of  their  chief  in  France,  whither  he 
hastened  to  return  the  following  spring.  Certain  authors, 
Champlain  among  others,  pretended  that  he  was  disgusted 
by  this  check,  but  this  is  not  probable;  if  he  conceived ' 
any  disgust,  it  was  not  because  he  did  not  succeed  to  his 
wish,  for  hi^  mind  was  too  strongly  fortified  to  permit  him 
to  be  discouraged  by  reverses,  and  he  had  too  much  wis- 
dom, not  to  imderstand  what  a  source  of  wealth  he  had 
bequeathed  to  posterity.  ^^  *    . 

At  all  events,  as  Charlevoix  remarks,  it  was  useless  for 
him  to  boast  of  the  country  he  had  discovered',  the  little  he 
had  brought  from  it,  and  the  sad  condition  to  which  his ' 
people  were  reduced,  by  cold  and  by  scurvy,  persuaded 
the  m^ority  that  he  could  never  be  of  any  use  to  France. 
Particular  stress  was  laid  on  the  fact  that  he  had  seen  no 
appearance  of  mines ;  for  then  much  more  than  at  present,  a  ^ 
foreign  land  that  produced  neither  gold  nor  silver  was 
worth  nothing. 

Nevertheless,  four  years  after,  in  1540,  Cartier  triumphed 
over  all  difficulties,  and  agam  set  sail,  accompanied  by 
Francis  d«  U  Roque,  Lord  of  R^bervaL    Thia  expeditio»-^ 


/ 


:-  .'"         ■■    118 

had  no  bettor  fortufio  than  its  predecessors.  Cold  and 
famine  dedicated  the  ranks  of  the /colonists,  and  James 
Cartier  disappeared  irora  the  theatre  of  history. 

Political  quarrels  and  refligious  dissensions  caused  North 
VVmerica  to  be  forgotten,  until  1549.  At  this  time  Rober- 
val,  encouraged  by  his  previous  efforts,  fitted  out  a  ship, 
and  sailed  in,  the  vestiges  of  his  predecessor ;  but  the  vessel 
was  lost,  including  men  and  merchandise,  and  nothing  was 
heard, of  him  after. 

^  This  was  sufficient  to  divert  public  opinion  from  the  pro- 
ject which  had  occupied  him  for  some  time.  About  half 
a  century  passed,  before  any  one  thought  of  trying  again. 
We  have  depicted  the  departure  ofDelaRoch^;  We 
have  seen  him,  aided  by  Chedotel,  struggle  against  the  fury 
of  the  elements,  and  of  men;  now,  we  are  about  to  see  him 

battling  against  a  still  more  redoubtable  scourge,  against " 
famine. 

The  Castor  had'  brought  provisions  only  for  fifty  days  • 
he  had  calculated  6n  the  Erable,  whose  cargo  included  i- 
vast  supply  of  mimitions  of  all  kinds.    But  attacked  by 
the  tempest,   she  deviated  from  her  course,    and    forty 
days  had  already  passed  without  thJre  being  any  sign  of 
land.    As  a  climax  of  misfortune,  thi  Erable  was  lost  m  a 
storm.     It  was  rieoessary  then  to  dijuinish  the  rations  of 
water,  and  soon  after  the  rations  of  flour.  These  measures 
commanded  by  imperious  necessity,  could  not  be  i^arried 
out  without  exciting  serious  discontent  among  the  convicts ; 
but  the  fate  of  the  leaders  of  the  first  revolt  had  intimitated 
them  too  much  to  venture  to  rebel  ^  second  time.  Besides 


■'  i^Z  '■ 


119 


the  orcw  ^nv^  that  the  marqnis  and  his  staff  shared  thoir 
minerics;  tlris  was  sufllcicnt  to.  stop  tho  most  seditions. 
Such  is  man's  nature  :  ho  suffers  voluntarily  with  those  who 
suffer,  but  does-not  ejicusc  his  privations,  when  surrounded 
by  those  who  revel  in  Abundance. 

All  onr  existence  is^^nst  in  spccnlatifig  on  comparison. 

Sorrow  had  then  ^xtinded  its  crape  over  tho  Castor ; 
none  were  met  but  emaciated  and  sunken  countenances. 

William  de  la  Rochfe  rarely  left  his  cabin ;  he  feared  that 
his  thouglitful  physiognomy  might  betray  the  anguish 
which  agitated  him,  and  he  consumed  his  hours  in  prayer 
and  meditation.  John  de  Ganay  was  not  less  sad  than  his 
master.  In  proportion  as  their  position  became  more  crit- 
ical, the  eqii6rry  regretted  more  and  more  his  having 
abandoned  the  mild  sky  of  France.  He  dreamed  of  the 
idol  of  his  thoughts.  Sinister  presentiments  gnawed  on  his 
heart  like  asps.  A  thousand  circumstances  passed  ^per- 
ceived, while  the  rays  from  the  beautiful  eyes  of  Laura 
dazzled  him  and  pressed  on  his  memory.  Now,  feeling 
l^imself  not  loved,  he  sighed  with  grief;  anon  believing  his 
love  reciprocated,  he  mourned  the  folly  which  had  drawn 
him  so  far  from  the  object  of  his  passion  ;  then,  to  these 
poignant  emotions  were  united  the  remembrance  of  his 
cherished  Burgundy,  with  its  climate  so  temperate,  its  fields 
80  green,  its  sun  so  pure.  He  recalled  the  manor  where 
his  infancy  and  early  youth  were  passed ;  he  sat  in  imagina- 
tion mider  the  great  mantle-piece,  heard  the  recital  of  the 
brave  deeds  of  his  ancestors ;  supported  his  head  on  the 
kaees  of  his  mother,  and  went  asleep  with  the  song  of 
caressing  rpmanoe.  ,  


■/. 


«a^ 


^' 


120 

Two  only  of  our  personages  had  preserved  the  moral  force, 
indispensable  to  defy  adversity.  Thesewere  Guyonne  and 
Chedotel.  Brought  up  side  by  side  .with  want,  having 
frequently  felt  the  pangs  of  hunger,  the 'sister  of  Yvon  did 
not  feel,  like  her  companions,  that  want  of  nourishment, 
which  was  increased  by  the  shackles  that  opposed  its  being 
satisfied;  and  although  the  convicts  were  reduced  to  a  few 
ounces  of  biscuit  a  day  and*some  salt  meat,  she  was  as 
fresh  and  as  serene  as  the  day  she  took  her  departure  from 
St.  Malo.  ' 

As  for  the  pilot,  what  he  was  at  the  commencement  df 
this  recital,  he  was  the  same  when  the  famine  was  at  its 
height;  hardened,  morose,  sarcastic,  vicious,"as  the  geniu» 
of  evil.  Unable  to  gratify  his  infamous  desires  in  regard 
to  Guyonne,  he  resolved  to  be  revenged.  But  Chedotel 
.  was  not  a  man  to  revenge  himself  in  an  ordinary  way.  He 
wished  an  atrocious,  frightful  vengeance. 

In  the  morning,  after  having  made  observations  with  his 
quadrant,  and  found  that  the  Castor  approached  the  paral- 
lels of  42  degrees  longi|ude,  and  63  degrees  latitude,  a 
fiendish  smile  lurked  at  the  corner  of  his  hps.  * 

Having  given  some  orders  relative  to  the  movement  of 
the  vessel,  he  hastened  to  the  Marquis  de  la  Roche.  The 
latter  was  engaged  in  a  conference  with  his  officers,  among 
whom  was  included  John  de  Ganay.  Chedotel  apprt)ached 
them,  affecting  an  air  of  great  consternation. 

"What's  this,  now  ?»    exclaimed  the  marquis;  "will 
not  the  wrath  of  Heaven  cease  to  oppress  its  humble  serv- 
-tatf^ --■— - - - — -•-" - — 


£ik 


121 

"Hum!"  replied  Chedotel.  «  At  sea,  one  must  be  pre- 
pared for  the  worst.  The  fact  is,  that  never  had  I  less 
chance  than  on  this  occasion." 

"But  what's ^the  matter?"  asked  the  marquis.   '■ 
Those  present  examined  the  countenance  of  Chedotel 
with  avidity. 

"Truly,  if  that  damned  Erable  does  not  come  to  our 

relief,  we  are  in  great  danger "  "; 

"Well?"* 

'    "It  is  difficult  to  digest,  although  our  stomachs  are  as 
supple  as  inflated  bladders." 

"  No  such  jests  in  my  presence !"  exclaimed  William  de 
la  Roche,  in  a  loud  voice.  "Master  pilot,  I  order  you  to 
speak,  and  not  to  conceal  anything  from  me." 

*'Hum!  I  did  not  suppose,  monseign<?ur,  that  you 
would  be  in  such  a  hurry  to  hear  bad  news ;  but  since  you 
wish  it  I  submit  to  your  will.  The  steward  assures  me 
that  we  have  not  more  than  a  barrel  of  water." 

"More  than  a  barrel  of  Avaterl"  exclaimed  those  pre- 
sent. 

""' 

"Only  one,  alas!"  rejoined  Chedotel,  laying  particular 
emphasis  on  the  figure. 

"Oh,  'tis  impossible!"  said  De  Ganay. 

"And"  continued  the  pilot,  with  a  diabolical  intention, 
"  provisions  for  one  week — scai'cely." 
"What?" 
"By  diminishing  the  rations,"  added  he.  


A  cry  of  fright  rose  from  every  breast. 


■;>►:■  .1 


;?-.v  4il} 


122 

"But,"  said  Chftdotel,  who  greatly  enjoyed  the  anxiety 
of  his  auditors,  "perhaps  there  is  stiU  a  means  left  whereby 
to  escape  the  frightful  death  which  menace^  all ;  for  it  is  a 
horrible  tiling,  gentlemen,  to  die  of  hunger,  between  sky 
and  water.  Hum!  I  remember  a  time,  when  we  had  a 
sh,pwreck-it  was  on  board  of  the  Amphitrite,  and  in 
order  to  save  ourselves  from  the  frightful  death  of  which  I 

epeak,  we  were  obliged  to  eat  one  of  our  comrades ^» 

"That's  enough,  pilot.     Keep  you? reminiscences  for 
yourself  and  your  equals.    Are  we  far  from  land  ?" 

"  Hum !   One  caA  not  tell  precisely.    The  sounding  gives 
twenty-four  fathoms,  and  a  bottom  of  shells.    Stop!  do 
you  hear  the  sailors  shouting,  Vlveleroi!  This  announces'^ 
the  Banks,  and  that  we  are  banking,  which  means,  that  we 
are  entering  on  the  Banks  of  Newfoundland." 

"Then,  the  shores  of  Acadia " 

« Monseigneur,  the  currents  are  numerous  in  these  seas  • 
the  winds  very  variable.  I  can  affirm  nothing_at  least 
until  you  consent  to  adopt  a  plan." 

"Let  us  see  what  it  is?    Be  brief." 

"At  some  hundreds  of  knots  from  us,  there  is  an  island, 
which  contains  a  sm^ll  lake  of  fresh  water.  We  could  dis- 
embark, this  rabble  there,  if  such  were  your  good  pleasure, 
and  go  to  procure  provisions  among  the  savage  tribes  of 
Acadia.  Then  we  could  seek  a  favorable  place  to  found 
the  new  colonial  establishment,  and  afterwards  return  to 
our  people." 

«  By  the  mass !  this  is  wisely  thought,  Master  Chedotel," 
said  Me^rSlo  noblemen. 


''>M.J.\,. 


mt^i: 


f.Jc.' 


^  ^        "w     r       >--7— •■ 


"■^/^', 


123 

"Yes,"  replied  De  la  Roche,  crossing  his  arms;  "but 
■what  will  support  these  people  during  our  absence  ?" 

«Huml'*  rejoined  the  pilot,  "they  will  not  want;  the 
island  abounds  with  game  and  fish !" 

^e  marquis  rose  from  his  seat,  walked  about  three  or 
four  times,  and  addressing  himself  to  Chedotel : 

"May  God  assist  us  I    Do  as  you  think  best  I'* 


Ci8  yji. 

"1 

)und 

1 

'n  to 

'rl 

"^       H 

tel," 

' 

r 

i 

i. 

pi| 

fe^ 

fi 

ii^ 

,j'"  ■ '  / 

;^^ 

.    .',-_4iai.l2^ 

■  «,, 


) 


CHAPTER  X. 

li  AND. 


^ 


FivB  days  after  tliis  conversation  the  dawn  appeared 
through  cold  and  compact  fogs.  A  strong  favorable  breeze 
whistled  in  the  rigging  of  the  Castor,  and  the  faces  of  all 
the  passengers  looked  joyful ;  for  already  those  silver  glob* 
ules  ranged  in  paralW  lines,  which  indicate  the  proximity 
of  land,  were  seen  to  bubble  around  the  vessel. 

At  the  same  time  all  da^igers  were.not  avoided;  the  " 
Castor  pui-sued  a  course  that  brought  her  into  the  mi4dle 
of  ice-mountains,  which  at  every  moment  threatened  to 
overwhelm  her.    But  the  news  that  they  wert  near  land 
and  would  soon  disembark,  was  sufficient  to  reanimate  the 
spii'its  of  those  most  discouraged. 

Let  us  contemplate  thescenewhiohisnowbeingenacted on 
the  deck  of  the  Castor.    The  fog  envelops  the  barque  with 
an  impenetrable  veil;  itja^fifteen^houro  since  all  these  nn- 
^^t«n»te  V^^tmmmra  morsel  ;the  horizon  is  hidT^ 


.  «     U^^K* 


125 

den  from  their  view;  yet  some  sing,  some  leap,    some 

run    about,    weep,    embrace    each    other— all    because 

•  they    have    Icarne^d    that    they    have    arrived   at   their 

destination. 

■( 

"  By  St.  James,  I  salute  thee,  the  happiest  day  of  my 
life,  although  your  face  looks  as  gloomy  as  that  of  a  draper 
who  has  surprised  his  wife,  sinning  tete-a-tete  with  a  cornet 
of  light  horse,*'  exclaimed  a  Spaniard,  agitating  his  blue 
linen  t;a^. 

"  I  will  burn  three  candles  in  honor  of  my  patron,"  said 
a  native  of  Brittany. 

"And  I,"  added  a  Crerman,  "  will  make  a  vow  not  to 
drink  a  single  pot  of  beer  this  year,  .if  we  arrive  at  a  good 
port." 

"I  imagine,  my  boy,  this  abstinence  will  not  be  very 
difficult,"  said  the  mate;  "do  you  suppose  that  beer  flows 
here  like  the  waves?" 

"It  is  not  the  less  true,"  said  the  son  of  Germany,  some- 
what cooled,  "that  if  there  be  hops  we  can  brew  beer; 
that  if  one  can  brew  it  he  can  drink;  that  if  one  can 
drink " 

Chedotel,  whose  peevish  and  jealous  humor  made  him 
the  enemy  of  the  amusements  of  others,  wished  to  prevent 
the  fun  of  the  exiles;  but  De  la  Roche  interposed,  and  al- 
though the  pilot  alleged  that  the  noise  and  confusion  they 
^ade  embarrassed  4he  ere w,  tfae^  marquis  ^id  not  like  t» 
interrupt  the  slender  amusements  of  the  unfortunate  peo- 


m 


126 


^  «  The  ship  sails  well,"'  said  he ;  « the  wind  is  propitious. 
It  will  cause  no  inconvienience  to  allow  them  to  divert 
thems^ves  for  an  hour  or  two." 

.  "  No  iuconvenience  I"  ■       , 

At  this  moment,  Guyonne,  attracted  by  the  discussion, 
appeared  on  deck. 

Chedotel,  perceiving,  her,  went  direct  to  her,  and  taking 
her  rudely  by  the  hand  dragged  her  along  towards  the 
forecastle.  ^ 

The  young  girl  coui^  easily  have  torn  herself  from  his 
grasp,  but  her  false  position  on  boa,rd  of  the  Castor  pre- 
cluded her  from, making  any  resistance.  She  ?-esolutely 
followed  ChedoteL 

A.  ' 

"Listen  to  me,"  said  he,  in  an  earnest,  passionate  voice, 
"and  remember  what  I  tell  you;  (or  in  two  hours  my  determ- 
ination will  be  irrevocable,  I  love  you,  and  you  knot^  it. 
For  one  word  of  love  from  you^  I  would  sink  this  vessel 
and  all  it  contains ;  for  one  kiss  from  your  lips,  I  would 
give  worlds ;  for  your  possession " 

The  voice  of  the  pilot  became  tremulous ;  all  his  muscles 
quivered  like  the  chords  of  an  instrument  of  music  durin^ 
^  storm.  ^ 

"For  your  possession,"  continued  he,  " for  your  posses- 
sion, Guyonne,  I  would  damn  my  bouII  I  would  sacrifice 
all  humanity !  You  see  how  I  love  you — ^you  are  in  my 
power— and  I  respect  you  f  I,  who  have  in  my  hands  the 
Meora  hundred  mdivldualsyijbef^^^^ 
Marquis  de  la  Roche  bends  the  knee ;  I,  who  despise  the 


'-I'-f^'-'.r.'i-^^  ''■'■ufMUi 


^'  ."^  127 

• 

fury  of  men,  disdain  the  fury  of  the  waves;  I,  who  am 
.  more  a  master  here',  than  the  king  is  in  France — I  implore 
your  pity  I  implore  your  compassion,'  Guyonne!  I  sup- 
plicate you  to  consent  to  be  my  wife,  to  give  me  one  word 
of  hope.  Come,  do^  you  wish  me  to  prostrate  myself  at 
your  feet,  in  presence  of  the  whole  crew  ?  Say,  do  you 
wish  it?"  - 

"No,"  coldly  replied  Giiyonne. 

"  What,  then,  can  I  do.  to  please  you  ?"  exclaimed  the 
pilot,  impetuously  attempting  to  embrace  the  yoimg  girl 
by  the  waist. 

"  Nothing,"  replied  she,  starting  Iback. 
"  Then  you  don't  love  me  ?" 
Guyonne  made  no  reply. 

"And^you  never  Avill  love  me,"  continued  Chedotel, 
wiping  away  the  cold  perspiration  which  batlied  his  tem- 
ples, "  and  you  will  never  consent — you  vile  outcast  of 
society,  to  be  the  legitimate " 

"  Never !"  replied  she,  firmly. 

"Do  you  not  know  Jiiat  you  are  under  my  absolute 
authority;  that  by  a  word  or  a,  gesture  I  can  sign  your 

r 

death-warrant  ?" 

"Never!" 

"  Ah !  have  I  not  sovereign  command  here  ?    And  you 

.  dare  to  say  never !     Have  I  understood  you  aright?    But, 

unfortunate  woman,  who  must  be  tited  of  life !     Never  I 


s-\ 


XimaticT    Then  yoa  feel  yourself  strong  against  tormenitT 
Never  1 •" 


:1k 


,,JV-  i'-~N 


t 


■-•:<..;f*,v'!~^i'.'...v..'3ri'^-' 


128 

In  articulating  these  imprecations,  the  pilot  pressed  her 
hand  as  if  he  would  break  it. 

There  was  a  pause  of  a  few  secohds  in  this  solitary  dra^^f 
ma  in  the  midst  of  a  crowd;  in  that  drama,  of  which  the 
dance  and  noise  rendered  the  vociferations  inaudible,  an 
observer  would  have  been  able  to  see  then  that  the  pilot 
struggled  between  two  divergent  passions,  each  exalted  to 
a  paroxysm. 

"  You  do  not  love  the  old  sea- wolf,  my  fine  girl  ?" 

^   «I  detest  you!"  retorted  the  young  girl,  her  patience  be- 
ing  exhausted. 

"Hum!  you  detest  me!  This  frankness  rather  pleases 
me.  By  the  rigging,  confidence  for  confidence,  I  will  be  as 
frank  as  you,  demoiseUe.  Do  you  distinguish  this  point  at 
the  west  ?" 

"Yes." 

"There,  then,  know  from  this  moment  will  be  your 
grave,  and  Satan  may  have  you  under  his  protection !" 

Soon  after  this  blasphemy  Cheddtel  went  to  rejoin  the 
Marquis  de  la  Roche,  who  paced^up  and  down  the  quai-ter- 
deck,  chatted  for  some  minutes,  and  went  in  person  to  the 
nidder. 

Thesunmountingtoitszenyth,had,bydegrees,  disengaged 
its  dazzling  face  from  the  veils  which  covered  the  empy- 
fean.  Some  clouds  stiU  wandered  here  and  there  on  the 
foamy  waves;  but  already  the  celestial  dome  unveUed  its 
=jpleBdQra,^^Bd  ^-tiift^dtstenee  were  grouped  l^lue  masses  "^ 
which  assumed  vaiious  forms,  scattered  and  again  re-united 


/,♦. 


/ 


jj.  i\J.j  juIi  jCiSJu  J». 


vg^  -"     TT 


^.-^ 


120 


at  each  knot  made  by  the  Castor  toAvards  the  shore.  This 
was  cape  Canceau,  the  island  of  Acadia,  now  Kova 
Scotia. 


'.« 


/ 


s. 


y,j*£> 


CHAPTER  XL 


THE     ARRIVAL. 


Chedotel,  without  quitting  the  heH  seized  one 
of  those  little  telescopes  which  had  recently  been 
invented  by  a  German,  named  Jansen,  and  examined  the 
shore.  % 

"Hrnn!"  murmured  he,  "this  devil.  Castor,  knew  her  way; 
but  I  am  not  satisfied  to  disembark  my  freight  on  this' 
side." 

Then  returning  the  glass  to  its  place,  and  raising  his 
voice : 

"Another  tack!"  he  cried  with  a  piercing  cry. 

The  chains  were  heard  to  grate  on  the  pulleys;  the  sails 
loosened,  flapped  heavily  against  the  masts;  the  sun 
seemed  rapidly  to  describe  the  arc  of  a  circle :  the  chains 

j:Medaj^oaJhepull^ysi  the  sail*  ea«ghtthe-»nnd,aar^ 
the  "barque  resumed  her  former  gait. 


I  i 


^=-»"iu&^i^U^>£^«\^''Jb«. 


131 

The  amusetnents  had  ceased,  and  for  some  minutes  the 
convicts,  mute  and^  palpitating  with  hope,  were  eagerly  ex- 
amining the  shores.  The  tijm  of  the  Castor  filled  t^em 
with  surprise,  but  attributing  it  to,  an  urgent  cause,  they 
abstained  from'  all  comments',  and  contented  themselves 
with  feeling  a  little  disappointed  at  seeing  the  shore  of 
New  France  vanish  like  an  illusive  mirage. 

William  de  la  Roche  consulted  one  of  the  map^^  4^*^^^ 
^y  Cartier,  and  of  which  the  fidelity  was  truly  incortceiv- 
able.  He  was  quite  astonished  at  the  course  steered  by 
the  pilot. 

"Are  we  not  proceeding  after  the  manner  of  the  craw- 
fish?", said  he  with  a  smile,  "I  thought  we  should  keep  the 
cape  to  the  north;  and  here  \he  needle  of  the  compass 
tiuTis  towards  the  south." 

"To  the  north,"  replied  Chedotel;  "hum!  yes,  oiir 
course  is  to  the  north ;  but  the  shortest  way  is  not  always 
the  best." 

"Nor,  is  it  the  promptest,  is  it,  pilot?" 

"Hum!"  ' 

*' Nevertheless,  I  should  like  to  know,  why  it  is  that  we 
are  returning.    Are  there  reefs  or  sand-banks?"  \ 

"Hum!  reefs,  sand-banks,  you  are  right,  there  are  both! 
the  coast  is  surrounded  with  them." 

"  It  is  the  coast  of  Acadia,  is  it  not  ?" 
"Hum!  the  coiast  of  Acadia ;  no,  it  is  not  the  coast  of 
keadia,^^?e^ied^hedotel  eooly,  ^Ht^is^^>aislaiidl^^     .. 


-» 


«e 


"An  island  I"  said  tJiemaj^quis. 


.rtlMS 


. '» 


132 
"An  island  1" 
"  What  do  you  call  it  ?" 
"Hum I  I  don't  ktiow  that  it  has  received  any  name. 

"It  is  strange  that  neither  Cartier  nor  llobcrval  have 
distinguished  it." 

«  Plum  I  that  need  not  astonish  you ;  this  island  is  a  mass 
of  sand  which  is  most  of  the  time  covSred  with  water.  The 
navigatoF|j^whom  you  cite  might  have  saUod  by  it  with- 
out observing  it'V 

But itfc  too  lat^.  With  the  exception  of  a  point  al- 
most  imperceptible,  the  Governor-General  of  Canada  dis- 
tmgmshed  nothing  at  the  horizon. 

"Are  we  going  to  the  other  shore  of  which  you  have  * 
spoken?"  « 

Chedlt'eT^  ^'  '"  '^°'  ''^''  '°  ^^^"'  ^"'  ^''''''"  ''^^'^ 

"  Then-have  you  passed  it  ?" 
"Several  times  I" 

"And  are  you  certain  that  om-  people  can  live  there 
durmg  the  few  days  we  must  be  absent  ?" 

"Live  therel  By  the  cross,  the  ruffians  were  never  in  a 
place  where  they  could  be  more  jovial.  They  have  only  to 
stretch  out  their  hands,  in  order,  to  have  cod-fish,  hares, 
rabbits,  partridges,  etc." 

"Do  you  remember,  pilot,  that  you  will  answer  to  me 
for  them  on  your  head  ?" 

"On  my  head?    Hum!    lvalue  my  head  more  than  a 
milhon  of  theseryrofligates ;  but  no  Mnttef,  T  will  anfl.v.i       T 


A. 


.iW-  S«J  J^-^ 


S>ri* 


■l^l 


133 

Whether  it  was  that  he  did  not  "unrlerataiKl,  or  whether 
he  did  not  hear,  he  look  no  notice  of  this  impertinence ;  he 
descended  into  the  inteiior  of  t^e  Castor,  while  Chedotel 
muttered  with  a  sinister  sneer : 

"  Take  care  whether  they  will  get  food ;  the  island  is  as 
barren  as  the  deck  of  a  vessel.  Ah,  monseigneur,  you  have 
treated  me  rudely  during  the  voyage ;  you  have  treated  me 
like  a  clown  I  I,  Chedotel,  who  have  been  at  sea  thirty 
years.  Ah,  Mr.  Governor,  you  will  govern — the  Hurons 
and  the  Esquimaux — if  you  can  *  *  And  that  abigail ! 
Ah  I  ah  I  Hum !  if  I  could  be  witness  *  *  Come,  what 
does  he  want;,  ?"  <», 

A  rolling  of  ^^u^i^had  drawn  this  exclamation  from 
the  pilot.  ^:  ^^ 

At  this  summoijis  the  transports  assembled  in  order,  and 
William  de„  la  Roche,  followed  by  his  staff,  appeared  on 
the  quarter-deck. 

"  Reef  the  top-sail  and  the  bow-sprit,"  shouted  Chedotel, 
whose  vigilant  eye  lost  no  movement  b€  the  Castor. 

While  the  sailors  executed  the  order  of  the  pilot,  Wil- 
liam made  the  following  speech  to  the  convicts : 
"Boys  I 

"You  know  that,  notwithstanding  all  my  cares,  misfortune 
has  hitherto  marked  our  expedition.  Provisions  came 
shorten  board.  Had  we  been  some  days  longer  at  sea, 
we  should  have  been  reduced  to  the  last  extremity.  I  have 
shared  your  miseries  and  privations.  Like  you,  I  have  sul- 
-fered  firom  f^radjae]  and  hadl^net^eaferieosfidraaee  m"ttar= 
goodness  of  God,  I  might,  perhaps,  have  given  way  to' 


<^ 


«s 


.Jl*^  .M. 


.^s 


■■,,>.  ^^^::'.?^*>i^J:S^ 


'  134  ' 

hopeless  despair.  But,  he  who  believes  in  the  infinite  mer- 
cy of  the  All-powerful,  he  who  disposes  every  night  the 
burden  of  his  tribulations  at  the  feet  of  the  Redeemer  of 
the  world,  is  strong  even  in  adversity. 

"We  now  approach  land,  not  the  continent,  as  you  may 
have  supposed,  but  a  fertile  island,  where,  with  a  little  labor 
and  ingenuity  you  can  provide  for  your  iiatural  wants.    I 
will  explain  to  you  here  that  the  want  of  provisions,  an  im- 
perious necessity,  has  forced  me  to  land  you  on  a  neighbor- 
ing island.    I  will  disembark  with  you  provisions  for  two 
days,  divers    tools,  bedding,  hunting  and   fishing  imple- 
ments ;  then  the  Castor  will  set  sail  again  to  seek  on  the 
shores  of  New  France  a  suitable  place  for  the  establishment 
of  the  colony  ^hich  I  have  projected.    As  som  as  Mave 
found  it  I  will  return  for  you,  and  take  you  thither."  f 

As  De  la  Roche  proceeded,  a  loud  murmur,  thi precursor 
of  a  storm,  rose  in  the  ranks  of  the  convicts,  A  spark  was 
sufficient  to  produce  an  explosion,  nor  was  the  sparkVant- 
ing. 

"It  is  intended  to  abandon  us  in  the. middle  of  the 
ocean !"  shouted  an  individual,  lost  in  the  crowd. 
V;  "It  is  intended  to  abandon  us !"  exclaimed  the  echo  of 
twenty  voices,  with  an  accent  of  terror,  and  of  unqualified 
menace. 

"  Yes,  to  abandon  us  1"  rejoined  the  first  voice ;  « to  aban- 
don us  on  some  unknown  shore;  there,  to  become  thq  vie- 
tims  of  famine  and  wild  beasts." 
:^  ^'^^^^^l^  ^Q^**  welcomed  this  declaj-fttinn ;  and  in 


lei*  than  a  second,  as  if  impelled  by  an  eleotrio  shook,  all 


k 
».». 


1-35 

the  convicts  were  pressing  tumultuously  under  the  poop, 
with  the  intention  of  scaling  it. 

Chedotel  laughed  in  his  sleeve,  and  continued  to  steer 
towards  the  northeast. 

De  la  Roche  felt  that  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  lay 
aside  his  habitual  pride,  in  order  to  put  down  the  insurrec- 
tion. 

"Listen,"  said  he,  "I  have  every  right  over  you;  the 
punishment  of  the  ringleaders  of  your  first  mutiny  must 
have  convinced  you  of  this.  But  I  am  opposed  to  violent 
executions,  and  I  pardon  you  this  moment  of  insubordina- 
tion, but  with  the  understanding  that  any  similar  attempt 
in  future  will  be  punished  with  death." 

"Yes,  with  hangings,  like  those  of  Molin,  Tronchard, 
and  others  I"  interposed  again  the  same  individual  in  a  tone 
of  bitterness  which  revived  the  irritation. 

"  In  order  to  show  you,"  continued  the  marquis,  "  that 
I  have  no  intention  of  abanddfcing  you,  as  certain  suspici- 
ous persons  among  you  fear,  my  equerry,  Viscount  de 
Ganay,  will  remain  among  you,  and  command  you  in  my 
absence.    Are  you  satisfied  ?" 

*'  Yes,  yes,"  replied  several  bandits. 

"  Well,  then,  return  to  the  steerage,  and  make  your  pre- 
parations. 

■Riis  promise  immediately  suppressed  the  eflfervescence 
which  rose  in  every  head. 

"Lord  de  Ganay,  I  shall  depend  on  you,"  said  the  marquis, 
turning  towards  his  equerry^  "^eur^sailora  will  aerve  yoB, 


.  as  a  guard." 


d 


:4^ 


•A 


S««i(aa»j««irJi,»,iaOi,;-,„ 


'ik^'^'^Z  i^vm 


\":  ^'^ 


\     'i 


% 


186 


"IwiUobey,  monseigneur,"  replied  the  viscount  with   •* 
indifferenoe. 

Chedotel  reefed  the  sails,  with  the  exception  of  the 
mizzen,  and  with  sounding-Une  in  hand,  steered  the  CastoF 
across  the  battures  which  encumbered  the  passage  where 
he  was  then  sailing. 

Soon  after  some  miles,  an  island  was  obsei-ved  covered 
with  smaU  trees,  which  in  the  distance  produced  an  agree- 
able effect.  '( 

The  order  was  given  to  bring  the  vessel  to  and  cast  an- 
chor. Then  William  de  la  Roche,  accompanied  by  his  prin- 
cipal officers,  descended  into  a  smalbboat,  and  landed.  He 
was  the  first  to  disembark,  plant  a  cross,  and  the  flag  of 
France  and  Navarre  in  the  sand,  and  take  possession  of  the  - 
island  in  the  name  of  the  king,  his  master.,^ 

The  sun  set  behind  a  thick  gray  cloud,  which  stained  the 
azure  of  the  firmament  as  a  spot  of  ink  would  stain  a  hoU- 
day  robe,  .when  the  smaU  boat  bringing  back  William  de  la 
Roche  came  for  jLhn  de  Ganay,  the  four  sailors,  charged 
with  watclufig-di^r  his  personal  safety,  and  the  pretended 
Yvon  wjip  served'ihim  as  a  domestic. 

In  this  \capacit|  Gi^yonne  proceeded  to  cross  the  bul- 
wark  to  take  part  j^  thfi  landing,  when  Chedotel  seized  her 
by  the  hand,  and  eKclaitoed  with  concentrated  fury: 

kour  wish  I    Well,  you  wiU  be  the  prey 
of  antiches  who  a^kit  you  yonder.    Adieu!"  added  he  al- 
-^oBt  biting^ef^lefiV    "Do  not  forpt  Sbelrst  andlast 
kiss  of  your  laver,  Chedotell" 


•^l^d 


/fe,t; 


r     >v^yj« 


137 

Guyonne  trembled  with  fright  under  the  infernal  gaze  of 
the  pilot,  and  mechanically  jumped  into  the  boat  which  set 
off  at  once. 

It  had  but  touched  the  shore  when  a  sudden  gust  of 
wind  whistled  in  the  rigging  of  the  Castor.  A  rolling  of 
thunder  succeeded  to  this  sinister  presage.  The  bark  mado 
three  piccessive  lurches,  and  receded  as  if  driven  by  an  ir- 

^HJBftible  power. 

Wi^^lood  and  death!"  said  Chedotel.  "hell  seconds  my 
designs!  "We  will  weigh  anchor. — Raise  the  anchor,  and 
take  a  reef  in  the  mizzen-sail  I" 

"  What's  the  reason  of  this  ?"  asked  William  de  la 
Roche. 

'  "Do  you  see  these  phosphorescent  egrets  which  dance 
at  the  extremity  of  the  cacatois  ?"  replied  Chetodel ;  "  it  is 
St.  Ehne's  fire.  It  is  necessary  to  regain  the  deep  sea  at 
once,  if  we  don't  wish  to  be  wrecked  on  the  shoals,  or 
against  the  rocks. 

Forty  persons,  including  Guyonne  and  John  de  Ganay, 
remained  on  the  island  of  Sable. 


Qded 

bul- 
I  her 

\ 

■ 

prey 

\ 

♦ 

■■■', 

e  al- 

I 

last 

m 

1 

^ 

'i^ 

■  4^Min^l<U'Wi:Ut^      «l    «    Si 

L                /.>•     ... 

im&i^AdjZ^'     ■ 

-^  ■'■■.*',''% 'SiJi'^/ 

^ 


f:       ' 


_|L 


tPA-HT     II. 

CHAPTER  L 


,    THE     ISLK     OI'     SABI.E. 

The  I^le  of  Sable,  a  wild  and  arid  plain,  is  situated  in 
latitude  43  degrees,  56  minutes,  42  Seconds;  and  in  longi- 
tude 60  degrees,  17  minutes,  16  seconds,  on  the  great 
oceanic  route  taken  hy  vessels  to  gain  the  northern  ports 
both  of  the  Old  and  of  the  New  World.    Its  distance  on 
this  side  of  Neadie  (Nova  Scotia),  and  Cape  Britain,  is 
about  eighty-five  miles.    As  its  name  indicates,  hills  of  sa^nd, 
mdented  by  the  waves,  compose  it.    It  scarcely  rises  abovJ 
the  elevation  of  the  sea;  although  it  contains  some  hills 
which  consist  also  of  saud.    The  best  known  at  the  present 
day  18  Mount  LutreU,  situated  at  the  western  extremity 
towards  the  south.    The  Isle  of  Sable  is  in  the  foi-m  of  a 
crescent.    Its  greatest  length  from  east  to  west  does  not 
.^"^^^  ^i"  leagues ;  its  breadtb  fiva^  leagues.    Haoed^ 


,  -'  -v        WS%  .-     vS  -    -  - 


»• 


189       . 

rounded  by  large  banks,  such  as  are  generally  to  be  found 
at  the  confluence  of  rivers.  A  broad  beach,  covered  by 
the  sea  when  the  tide  is  in,  and  left  dry  when  the  tide  ii 
out,  surrounds  the  island  throughout  its  whole  circumfer- 
ence. If  nature  had  made  it  productive  and  habitable, 
this  would  have  proved  a  better  and  more  formidable  de- 
fence than  a  line  of  ramparts  and  bastions,  for  not  only  are 
large  ships  precluded  from  approaching  ;  but  even  coasting 
vessels  can  arrive  only  with  the  aid  of  their  boats.  At  the 
centre  is  a  lake,  now  called  Lake  Wallace,  whieh  is  five 
miles  in  circumference.  The  shores  of  this  alone  6njoy  a 
sort  of  sickly  fertility.  Here  are  to  be  seen  some  stunted^ 
consumptive  trees,  or  rather  shrubs,  and  occasionally  shreda 
of  down ;  also  some  plants  qf  pale  color  an^  yfreak  stemip. 
It  is,  in  short,  an  utter  desolation,  forgotj;en  by  some  latality, 
in  a  corner  of  the  Atlantic.  ^ 

» 

"  Kever,"  says  Charlevoix,  in  his  History  of  .New  France^ 
"  was  land  less  fitted  to  be  the  abode  of  men."     ,      ^ 

I' 

From  time  immemorial,  ihe  Isle  of  Sable  has  been  the 
terror  of  mariners  engaged  in  fishing,  or  in  collecting  furs 
in  the  waters  of  Acadia.  Long  before  the  expedition  of 
John  Cartrer^it  was  ki^own  and  feared  by  the  Basques,' the 
Normans,  and  the  Britons.  The  sea  constantly  pours  it& 
stormy  waves  around  its  coast,  and  the  impenetrable  fogs 
which  brood  over  it  render  landing  on  ijt  a  difficulty  inmost 
insurmountable.  Even  at  the  present  day,  it  seems  a  som- 
bl4  presage  to  all  who  approach  it.  The  mariners,  in 
their  figurative  language,  liWe  given  It  the  name-of  **^fldl 
Avenue." 


4' 


»l*W'-;'^*.-?^ 


4.^ 


I>   .=" 


140 


In  1804  the  British  Government,  actuated  by  a  philan- 
thropxc  sohctude  which  cannot  be  too  much  praised,  estab- 
Lshed  a  station  there,  the  object  of  which  ^as  to  pick  up 
any  that  happened  to  be  shipwrecked  j  and  in  1853  it 
erected  houses,  supplied  with  aU  things  necessary  to  afford 
assistonce  to  the  iU-fated  persons  cast  on  its  shores  every 
month,  nay,  every  week. 

_    With  the  exception  of  a  few  sea-birds,  no  kind  of  game' 
IS  to  be  met  with  on  the  Isle  of  Sable. 

Let  us  now  return  to  the  forty  individuals  whom  the 
Marqms  de  la  Roche  had  left  in  this  frightful  solitude.        " 


i 


V 

!_ 

'■» 

'                                           *                                                                                        * 

• 

- 

* 

i- 

] 

% 

1 

' 

•iJ 

nkx^'^ 


h  #-^^  ^ 


ghAiter  n. 


T  H  K     F"  O  R  X  Y. 


As  the  Castor,  after  having  veered  about,  steered  with 
rapidity  towards  the  east,  a  cry  rose  from  the  Isle  of 
Sable. 

A  spontaneous,  terrible,  immense  cry;' a  cry  of  despair, 
which  drove  from  their  retreat  a  flock  of  seagulls,  and 
rose  for  a  moment  above  the  rumbling  of  the  angry 
w^aves. 

It  was  a  cry  from  thirty-eight  human  breasts;  one  that 
concentrated  the  apprehensions  of  thirty-eight  human 
beings;  expressed  the  anguish  of  thirty-eight  hYiman  souls, 
which  saw  departing  the  last  tie  which  united  them  to 
civilized  society.        .  , 

Then  were  seen  frightful  individual  scenes. 
As  many  in  a  rage  as  there  were  men ;  as  many  violent 
damors  as  there  were  voices ;  as  many  imprecations  against 


ai-ms! 


142 


-> 


The  pencil  has  not  /sufficient  colots,  nor  has  the  pen  suf- 
ficient graphic  force  to  reproduce  this  horrible  picture. 

After  long  days  of  puffering  and  privation  in  the  entrails 
of  a  vessel,  where  they  w^  huddled  together  like  negroes 
at  the  bottom  of  the  hold;  after  having  seen  land,  and 
having  saluted  it  with  the  enthusiasm  of  a  prisoner  saluting 
the  hour  of  his  deliverance ;  after  having  formed  a  thousand 
projects  of  future  felicity,  tasted  the  imaginaiy  pleasures  of 
V  soon  being  able  to  eat  and  drink  at  discretion ;  after  so 
many  emotions,  to  fall  suddenly  on  an  unknown  shore,  to 
all  appearance  sterile,  at  the  beginning  of  a  storm,  without 
any  coverirf^^ainSt  rain,  without  food  to  revive  their 
strength,  exhausted  by  famine  I  Could  stoicism  incarnate 
have  resisted  assaults  so  made?  ' 

To  try  to  calm  them,  or  make  them  listen  to  reason,  was 
like  casting  oil  on  a  blazing  fire  in  order  to  extinguish  it. 

•  Viscount  de  Ganay,  notwithstanding  his  youth,  had  too 
much  experience  of  men  and  things,  to  excite  still  more 
those  savage  natures  by  any  precipitate  effort.  Believing, 
besides,  that  the  Castor  had  only  weighed  anchor  to  seek  a 
safer  mooring,  he  waited  calmly  until  the  efiervescence 
should  appease  itself. 

The  predictions  of  the  equerry  in  regard  to  his  com- 
panions  were  realized. 

Wearied  with  blaspheming  and  swinging  their  arms,  in 

yarn  the  best  disposed  concluded  to  make  the  best  of  their 

situation.    Accompanied  by  Ouyonne,  and  the  four  sailors 

that  served  him  as  an  escort,  John,  believing  that  the  time 

"iad  come  to  act,  approached^  the  groups. 


',  i  * 


^^^x^^ 


ousand 
ares  of 
ifter  so 
ore,  to 
athout 
5  their 
sarnate      ♦ 


H3  , 

The  bandits,  in  their  excitement,  had  not  remarked  the 
presence  of  the  viscount  amongst  them.  When  it  was 
known,  hope  revived  in  those  susceptible  hearts ;  and  they 
instantly  gave  way  to  the  most  divergent  sensations.  John 
de  Ganay  appeared  to  them  as  a  sacred  hostage;  as  a  cer- 
tain proof  tftit  the  Governor  of  New  France  did  not  intend 
to  abandon  them.  Towards  them,  reproved  by  the  world, 
a  great  and  povj^erful  lord  had  the  right  of  pei-fidy ;  but  the  " 
viscount^;wr^a  true  nobleman;  his  arms  attested  the  fact; 
an^^c6rtainly  the  Marquis  de^a  Roche  would  not  have  had 

le  audacity  to  play  such  a  nasty  trick  on  a  member  of  the 
distinguished  Burgundian  family  of  the  De  Ganays. 

These  natural  reflections  soon  found  expression,  and  the 
viscount  found  every  ear  ready  to  listen  to  him,  and  every 
hand  ready  to  obey  his  orders. 

The  night  rapidly  unfolded  its  gloomy  mantle ;  the  rain 
fell  in  torrents,  and  the  wind  took  masses  of  Avater  from 
the  surge,  and  dashed  them  about  on  the  beach. 

"  Come,  my  braves,"  said  the  equerry  to  the  exiles  who 
surrounded  him,  "  as  it  is  not  likely  that  we  shall  hear  any- 
thing of  the  Castor  before  to-morrow  morning,  we  had  bet- 
ter encamp  here  as  best  we  can.  Form  yourselves  in  groups 
of  ten  each;  my  sailors  will  give  each  group  rations  of  wine 
and  salt-meat,  which  I  have  landed  in  my  boat;  then,  by 
cutting  some  branches,  and  inserting  them  in  the  sand,  and 
covering  them  with  your  linen  sheets,  you  can  construct  • 
tents  which  will  be  passable  for  valiant  troopers,  more  ac- 
customed to  lie  under  the  canopy  of  the  stars  than  under 
^ecoi-ated  wainscots.  YiveMonsel^aevLV  d(j  la  Roghe,  Goy- ,  : 
ernor  of  New  France !" — 


f;Fjfi'''. 


144 

«  H«e  Monseigneur  d^-la  Roche,  Governor  of  New 
France  I"  unanimously  repeated  the  convicts ;  for  in  appeal- 
ing to  the  valor  of  the  bandits,  John  de  Ganay  took  them 
at  their.weak  side.  To  flatter  the  self-love  of  the  masses 
is  the  secret  of  the  eloquence  of  the  great  popular  orators. 

The  rations  of  wine  and  provisions  were  scrupulously 
distributed,  and  promptly  swallowed,  and  each  group  com- 
menced ^he  duty  of  preparing  a  refuge  against  the  storm 
which  stiil  raged  furiously. 

Enveloped  in  his  mantle,  John  de  (Janay  superintended 
the  works,  while  his  saUors  and  Guyonne  prepared  a  tent 
in  the  centre  of  the  httle  camp.  Towards  nine  o'clock  aU 
thai  was  necessary,  was  done,  and  the  rain  ceased  by  de- 
grees ;  but  it  was  succeeded  by  a  piercing  cold,  so  that  the 
poor  bandits,  drenfched  to  the  skin,  had  a  very  disagreeable 
night  in  perspective,  when  an  old  mariner,  who  had  taken 
part  in  the  expeilition  of  Roberval,  asked  suddenly, 
addressing  himself  to  the  viscount : 

"  Would  monseigneur  permit  us  toUight  a  fire  ?" 
"Light  it,  my  brave,"  replied  the  equerry,  "but  I  am 
afraid,  you  dannot  succeed.  The  two  barrels  of  powder  I 
have  brought  here  from  the  Castor  are  damaged ;  and  as 
it  may  happen  that  I  may  require  my  pistols  for  some 
more  pressing  business ^" 

"  No  matter  for  that,  monseigneur  I  I  learned  from  the 
savages  of  Acadia  how  to  Hght  a  fire  without  either  pow- 
der or  flint." 

"  Truly,  that  is  curious  I    How  do  you  do  it  ?" 


^  Nothing  more  simple,  as  you  will  seo.** 


h.^^','j  L  -^  '  hA'-:^'r-i^.'^^^h  --^^  *«'  V  '  ^ 


^••^^^^^^r^^f^!??ws 


145 

The  sailor  retired,  and,  guided  by  the  moon  which 
emerged  at  intervals  from  behind  a  curtain  ohhick  clouds, 
succeeded  in  discovering  in  the  cavities  of  the  shore  somo 
dry  sesrweed  and  two  branches  of  rotten  beech. 

Having  brought  both  into  the  tent  of  the  viscount,  ho 
cut  a  hole  into  the  thickest  of  the  pieces  of  wood,  sharpen- 
ed  the  other,  and  introduced  it  into  the  whole  which  he  had 
made,  and  rubbed  the  two  branches  against  each  other 
simultaneously,  untU  they  began  to  emit  sparks. 

At  the  sight  of  the  sparks  the  bandits  were  astonished. 
Some  believing  it  witchcraft,  and  devoutly  crossing  them- 
selves ;  others  resolutely  crying  out  a  miracle ;  others,  still 
more  fanatical,  denounced  it  as  an  exhibition  of  the  black 
art— a  terrible  charge  in  that  age  of  superstition,  when 
physical  phenomena  were  considered  as  magic,  and  those 
who  produced  them  were  punished  with  butchery. 

Fortunately  for  the  ingenious  sailor,  John  de  Ganay  did 
not  partake  of  the  prejudice?  of  the  precept:  "Be  aware 
of  exhibiting  your  science  to  the  ignorant;  for  of  tea  who 
;^ill  witness  it,  there  will  be  nine  who  will  deny  it,  one 
who  will  refute  it,  and  ten  who  will  be  jealous  of  it." 

With  the  exception  of  the  viscount,  of  the  three  other 
sailors,  and  of  Guyonne,  aU  refused  for  a  long  time  to 
warm  themselves  at  this  fire,  "kindled  by  hell."  Finally, 
however,  the  cold  increasing  in  intensity,  a  few  ventured, 
the  rest  imitated  them,  Uke  the  sheep  of  Panurge ;  but  the 
equerry,  having  advised  them  to  take  some  coals  out  of 
^le  fire,  and  light  othei-M  for  themselvesTnone  daredTo  ven- 
ture.    These  men,  who,  as  they  said  themselves,  feaied 


','3i(li^„ 


/ 


m 


lU- 


146     ^, 

neither  God  nor  the  devil,  and  who  cared  little  for  divine 
or  human,  had  all  horror  of  the  sdpeniatui-al. 

From  this  night  forth,  as  will  be  seen  in  the  course  of 
our  narrative,  the  sailor  Philip  Francoeur,  suraaraed  the 
MaleJicieuXj  was  an  object  of  ayirsion,  dread,  and  respect 
to  the  entire  troop  of  convicts.' 


■♦ 


' 

'' 

« 

>■' 

• 

¥^ 

f 

■ 

( 

k 

,, 

« 

« 

cnAPTER  in. 


^RSX   DAY    OT^    THE    ISI^Aim    OF    SABLB:. 

Tu^night  passed  .vithout" accident.,  Ear^  next  mom- 


ing  the  convicts,  standing  on  the  heists  on  the  shore 
Bought  a/xiouslj^  a  glance  at  the  ship*  that  had  brought 
them.  Vain  attempt,  although  no  fog  g^ed  its  mantle 
over  the  face  of  the  Ocean ;  although  th^  shone  bright- 
ly, notlung  interposed  between  the  eye  Shd  the  impenetrable 
iamre  of  the  horizon.  \ 

»  "Venison  stomach !»  said  an  ex-lancer  who  had  sei-ved 
under  Maycnne,  and  affected  the  manners  and  the  favorite 
expressionsofthecelebrated covenanter.  "Venison stomach 
I  believe,  we   are   closer  prisoners  than  paroquets  in  a 


cage. 


"Da you  believe  it,  Grosbec ?" 

"  BTis  my  melancholy  opinion.    No  more  of  the  Castor, 
_^,^^_lP^^g"auid,mM.y^  J^ 

"  Yes,  but  she  ia  ooiuing." 


■/  ■  t^ 


■^     . 


148 


:k 


"Who  is?" 
«  The  Castor." 

*'  Calculate  on  that,  my  brave  German,  and  in  the  mean 
time  hold  your  topgue." 

*'  Ah,  I  perceive ^ 

"  What  do  you  perceive  ?" 

"  Down  there,  at  the  South  V* 

"  Ninny,  it  is  a  sea-gull.". 

"  Yes,  it  is  a  sea-gull,"  gravely  observed  a  large  man, 

asort  of  Hercules,  who  had  hitherto  remamed  silent.      • 

\ 
"  A  sea-gull,"  repeated  the  ex -lancer,  «  and  I  am  afraid  I 

vWhat  do  you  think,  father  Francis  Rivet  ?"  said  Brise-tout. 

"  What  I  say,  is,"  said  "the  colossus,  striking  his  foot 
against  the  ground,  « that  you  ar^  right,  Grosbec,  we  are 
left  like  rats  in  a  trap,  brutally  abandoned  here  to  perish 
with  hunger.  Ah,  Molin,  although  the  devil  may  have 
him,  predicted  rightly.  Do  you  know,  said  lie  to  me,  that 
we  are  to  be  abandoned,  in  order  that  our  carcasses  may 
serve  as  food%r  fishes,  or  ravens;  not  a  doubt  of  it?" 

"Fr(?m  the  point  of  view  in  which  he  regarded  it  he 
was  ndt  deceived,  poor  Molin,"  said  Gr<jsbeo;  "but, 
vefnison  Stomach,  we  are  not  yet  reduced  to  that  ?" 

"Not  yi^t,  possibly,  and  to-morrow — ^* 

"To-morrow,"  said  another  personage,  lost  in  the  crowd, 
"  the  Csmtor  will  have  returned."  4  ^ 

"Who  sayft-thflt,"  ft«Vi> j  Grofibgn,     ;„j l ,_ 


**  Nabot,"  replied  several  voioeB  meering. 


149 

"Nabot  is  an  imbecile,"  said  Brise-tout  with  impar 
tiencG.  » 

"An  imbecile!  who  is  he  that  has  called  me  that  name," 
exclaimed  a  little  man,  scarcely  three  feet  and  a  half  high, 
stepping  over  the  legs  of  the  spectatiprs,  and  advancing 
towards  the  giant. 

"The  imbecile  who  has  given  you  his  name,  is  I,"  re- 
joined Brise-tout. 

"You?"  said  the  dwarf,  striking  his  fists  proudly  against' 
his  haunches. 

"Alas I  yes,  my  fine  miscaniage." 

The  face  of  Nabot  grew  pale  with  fury. 

"Then  you  imagine,  you  are  very  strong." 

"  Mordieu  /"  I  am  as  strong,  in  any  case,  as  an  embryo 
like  you." 

"Yes,  but  say  that  again  I" 

This  was  received  with  general  laughter. 

"You  do  not  know,  p'erhaps,"  said  Nabot,  "that,  small 
as  it  is,  the  hatchet  fells  the  largest  oak,  and  the  sword- 
fish  kills  the  whale." 

"After?—" 

"After? — let  you  take  care  I" 

In  finishing  these  words,  the  dwarf  jumped  on  his  belly, 
seized  Brise-tout  by  the  leg,  and  before  the  latter  had 
thought  of  opposing  his  design,  threw  him  at  full  length 
on  the  sand  to  the  great  amusement  of  the  lookers-on. 

The  colossus  rose,  muttering  menacing  Avords  between 


T 


Ins  dencbed  teeth,  and  proceeded  to  chastiso  his  tiny  ad* 
versary;  but  Nabot  prudently  hid  liimself. 


I 


■     -5, 


ISO 

Thp  murmurs  suspended  by  this  joke,  recommenced 
with  renewed  bitterness.  Brise-tout,  as  much  to  cause 
the  trick  played  upon  him,  to  be  forgotten,  as  from 
natural  taste,  constituted  himself  the  mouthpiece  of  these 
murmurs. 

"  Since  we  are  abandoned,"  resumed  he  with  that  guttural 
accent,  characteristic  of  him,  « I  think,  we  ought  to  divide 
all  the  munitions,  and  that  afterwards  each  person  may 
mnke  what  disposition  of  himself  he  may  think  proper, 
liv  ing  here  or  leating  it." 


«  That's  right,  that's  right !"  replied  several  bandits,  givinc. 
eenous  glances  at  the  tent  of  John  de  G^ay.  «  No  priv^ 
lege,  no  chief;  let  us  divide !"  '^' 

"  Yes,  divide,  pack  of  dogs !"  said  a  sailor  who  suddenly 
made  his  appearance  in  the  midst  of  the  mutineers. 

"What  is  he  muttering  there?"  said  Brise-tout,  break- 
ing  a  round  shuffle-boai'd  between  his  fingers  as  a  past- 
time.  f 

"I  am  muttering  that  you  are  more  beasts,  than  the 
porp'oises,  you  especiaUy,  descendant  of  Goliath,"  continued 
Malificieux.  "What,  you  grumble  because  the  Castor  is 
not  yet  returned  I  But  do  you  not  know  that  a  squall  may 
chase  a  vessel  a  hundred  leagues  out  of  her  course?  And 
I,  who  have  been  twenty  yeai-s  at  sea,  told  you  that  the 
Castor  could  not  be  here  before  to-morrow.  But.'  here 
comes  Lord  de  Ganay,  I  advise  you  to  keop  gniaf  Jf  j^^ 


-value  your  skin.    Come,  silenw  ia  the  ranks  I    Do  you  not 


*« 


151 

remember  the  dance  of  Molin,  Tropchard,  tepoli,  and 
company^  eh  ?"   « 

This  question,  asked  with  sarcastic  irony,  was  more  than 
sufficient  to  impose  silence  oa  the  mutineers  who  feared 
that  their  conduct  might  be  regarded  as  a  revolt.  So  when 
Viscount  de  Ganay  made  his  appearance  in  the  midst  of 
the  groups,  he  found  the  bandits  genera^  disposed  to 
listen  to  him. 


i*»  ^# 


The  equerry  ha|  profoundly  reflected  during  the  night. 
The  conclusion  he  cam^Jo  was  that  he  must  act  with  ener- 
gy towards  the  perturl>ed  and  vicious  spirits  placed  under 
his  control,  if  he  wished  to  make  them  obey  him  in  the 
end.  Consequently,  having  assured  himself  that  his  four 
sailors  would  devote  themselves  to  him  to  the  last,  he  re- 
solved to  explore  the  island,  then  to  establish  his  camp 
in  a  convenient  place.  * 

He  then  divided  his  men  into  fo^tr  bands  of  ten,  each  of 
^  which  he  placed  under  the  authori^jr  of  a  sailor. 

A  half  a  doz«n  pairs  <jf  pistols,  as  many  hatchets— such 
were  the  only  arms  and  iigpliments*  possessed  by  the 
exiles.  These  arms  were  divided  between  the  command- 
ers of  troops ;  then  a  rallying  cry  wife  agreed  upon  to  be 
used  either  in  case  of  danger,  or  for  the  purpose  of  wait- 
ing. It  was  decided  that  towards  two  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon the  various  bands  \<rould  take  up  their  march  to  re- 
turn to  the  point  of  depar^re,  and  that  at  least  three 
scouts  should  be  sent  in  advance,  one  to  remain,  to  receive 
ihe  Caator»  14 percbaaoe,  she  should  re^^ppeM!  dufing-tiie= 
absence  of  the  explorers. 


<i 


T 


162 

One  band  proceeded  towards  the  east,  another  towards 
the  west,  the  third  between  these  tWo,  that  i«  towards  the 
presumed  centre  of  the  island.  .      . 

This  thir<i  band  was  commanded  by  John  de  Ganay  in 
person,  with  Malififcieux  as  lieutenant.    Among  those  who 
;   composed  it,  were  mcluded  our  acquaintances  Guyonne, 
Brise-tout,  Nabot,  Grosbec. 

The  day  was  luxuriant  in  charms.  Nothing  could  equal 
^  the  purity  of  the  sky  which  looked  like  a  cupola  of  saphir^ 
in  the  midst  of  wHichwas  set  a  sparlding  carbuncle.  The 
sands  on  the  beach,  reflecting  a  thousand  fires  undW  the 
rays  of  the  sun,  seemed  to  form  round  the  island  a  collar  of 
pearls  and  rubies;  there  was  nothing  everi  to  the  meagre 
brushwood,  and  shrubs  seen  in  the  distance  which  did  not 
imparttothitdesolate  shore  an  air  of  deceitful  gayety  which 
at  first  dissipated  the  sinister  apprehensions  of  the  con- 
victs. 

"Venison  stomach!"  said  Grosbec,  addressing, himself  ' 
to  Brise-tout,  "it  is  my  opinion  that  we  are  wrong,  after 
all,  ^hv.regarding  ourselves  as  desolate ;  we  are  in  a  good 
country.  Provided  that  the  savage  demoiselles  do  not 
show  themselves  too  particular  in  the  chapter  of  manners. 
—By  the  way,  where  the  devil  do  those  ladies  conceal 
themselves?  I  have  not  yet  had  the  pluasuro  of  a  glance 
at  one  of  them  I" 

"The  savages  I  nothing  more  is  wanting  now  I"  svVore 
Brise-tout. 

^^Jilonaieur  Grosbec,  mind  your  nose,"  interposed  Na- 


ISof. 


f^ 


t  » 


■\ 


153 


,>\ 


"My  nose!"  replied  the  ex-lancer,  raising  his  hand  to 
t^iat  organ,  which  was  unduly  prominent.    ' 

"Eh I  without  doubt,  the  Indians  have  a  great  fancy  for 

tie  nose;  ask  Malifioieux."  ■     ^       ^ 

m      ^ 

"Be  sUent,  you- insect,"  replied  Francis  Rivet,  pulling 
the  ear  of  the  dwarf. 

"Ah I"  exclaimed  the  latter,  "do  you   think,  I   am 
deaf??' 

"Stop,  earth-worm,"  said  Grosbee,  "venison  stomach  I 
what  famous  odor  one  respures  at  home." 

.    "Excuse I  the  odor  of  a  corrupted  spouse,"  said  the 
dwarf. 


*'  Some  vervain,  brute  I" 

"  That  depends  on  the  nose." 

"On  what?"     .  /' 

.  «  On  the  nese,Tenison  stomacb  I"  retorted  Nabot,  imitat- 
ing the  Gascon  accent  oj^Grosbec. 


^ 

^^V^ 


This  bad  pun  had  a  fooWsuccess,  and^ited  peals  of 
laughter.  m^ 

•-^^  .<'•%         '.'•'. 

"Silence!"  interposed  MaUficieux,  "this  is  neither  the 
hour  nor  the  place  to  joke^  school-boy  fashion.  Let  us 
see,  what  is  that  ?" 

At  the  call  of  the  sailor  John  de  Ganay  stopped,  and 


4'' 


T  -was  inritatea  by  the  other  mn,  whose  eyes  tumed^nxT^^ 
iously  towards  the  point  which  Philip  F*ranc<Bur  indicated    * 


latk.-^.    H^>^     jj^ 


"wi-jLh  his  finger, 
ers,  appeared  a 


ff''^  .with  th^  utr^o.|^tranqui!|iy.  ^| 
^^   istfed  it,  and  fired,  but  mt 


I  the  braA^eaaf  some  junip. 


te  bod^Tj'^rjiicfe.  passed  lol^g  on. 

rseen  to^ound  off  at  Onl,  ^i^^Uch,  i,,ter 
^    ^*'  ^'^^  immediateiy  resumed.    At 
1^  reached  a  lake,  and  ^h»l]b  was  ordered. 
.  » -    y  V  B^^  ^^  remarked ;  and  althe  places  visited 
^^^'^W^W^i^^,  the^  island  was  not^ly  deserted,  but 
^^  ^de^l^tite/  of  everything  .necessary  for  the%sistence  of  our 
'-        racp:    However,  the  sight  of  the  lake  reanilated  his  hope ; 
the  shored  were  found  green;  and  their  soil  seemed  suit- 
'■  able  for  culture.    Desirous  of  pursuing  hig '  obsei-vations, 
the  equerry  lomjged  on  the  bank  of  the  lake,  While  his  com- 
panions  rested  themselves,  or  made^war  on  the  inhabit- 
ants of  the  water.    He  an-ived*  thus/ at  a  grove  of  birch ; 
having  passed  it,  fee  suddenly  fouD4  himself  before  a  hut! 
coarsely  constructed  of  branches.    At  the  noise  of  his  foot- 
stef),  an  individual,  covered  with  skins,  who  had  been 
squatting  on  the  threshold,  uttered  a  sharp  cry,  and  plung- 
ed  into  the  Jake.    John  knew  not  what  fear  was ;  but  a 
wise  prudence  counseled  him  not  to  venture  any  farther 
suspecting  that  the  beech  grovemight  be  haynted  by  a 


tribe  of  savages.   He  even  detemined  not 
covery  known  to  the  bandits /for  the  prei 
avoid  "M^ing  their  discontent. 
P'^^'^ooy^miodest  repast  of  fish,  w 


ronrrjit  them  back  to. 


'0"s  evening,  \)utKttle  impressed  in 


had  seen. 


e  his  dis-^ 

order  to 

them,  lip 

had  propar- 

of  the  pKc- 

LWhat  tjiey_ 


V. 


:m 


<v 


'tt7\\  Jw»ik.iAKl.  ^i.^ 


I,  ii^ter- 

d.    At 

•dered.    ^l 

visited 

jd,  but 

of  our 
hope ; 

i  suit- 

ati.ons, 

scom- 

iliabit- 

bircb ; 

I  hut, 

i  foot- 
been 

)lung- 

but  a 

ither, 
by  a  V 

s  dis- 

ler  to 

n,  hp 

epar- 

!  pre-        .J 

they        — - 


•■* 


re- 


166 

\  -  ■■■.  ,         . 

*  '■-.  ■  .'       '  ,  ■ 

Already  the  twd  other  troops  had  returned.    Their 
port  was  unanunous;   the  island  produced  nothing  but 
sand 

The  roll  of  the  convicts  was  called ;  therp  was  but  one 
^wanting— number  40.    Guyonnel 


^^ 


--t.^ 


^S' 


\a 


''^k 


% 


.-i 


K 


.-fA 


«s<> 


s 


^     • 


't\ 


i^E    "i^»  ftAJhlfc 


'i!!'."i".'!" '  ."y^'  -"  -•.»— ..^t... 


^wf'* 


\    \ 


~,y 


'    CHAPTER  rv. 

B  RISE-TOUT, 

JShn-  pe  Ganat  alone  felt  some*  uneasiness  for  the  alj- 

sence"o!' number  40.     The  rest  of  the  band  -^Ve  naturally 

Joo  selfish  and  too  well  used  to  the  vicissitudes  of  fortune 

to  care  about  her.     Besides,  the  pretended  Yvon,  far  fl-om 

inspiring  the  affection  of  the  bandits,  had  rather  excited 

Hheu-  jealousy,  on  accoupt  of  the  interest  which  the  viscount 

did  not  cease  to  take  in  her  welfare.    In  all  places,  in  all 

positions,  matf    sees  with  displeasure  one  of  his  equals 

more  favored  than  himself;  but  it  is  epecially  in  the  heart 

of  the  unfortunate  that  envy  has  established  the  seat  of  its 

empire.    As  to  the  equerry,  two  reasond  caiised  him  to  re- 

gret  the  disappearance  of  Guyonne ;  first,  the  attachment 

which  he  felt  towards  the  pretended  young  man;  then  the 

fear  that  her  disappearance  was  to  be  attributed  to  the 

personage  he  had  seen  at  the  brink  of  the  lake.  .  However, 

he  concealed  his  fears,  and^tried  to  seem  gayer  than  usual^ 


m 


"4. 


UP 


\ 


.167  • 

in  order  to  reassure  the  convicts.    Those  who  had  remain-     - 
ed  at  the  encampment  had  spent  the  day  in  constraqtb^ 
as  comfortable  tents  as  possible.     The  debris  of  a  tfils^d    / 
ship  had  served  them  for  this  purpose;  and  when  tfie  ex^ 
plorers  returned,  those  tents  were  in  a  state  sufficiently^V 
advanced  to  inspire  the  hope  that  they  would  pass  a  bettw- 
night  than  the  first.    Each  of  the  departments  had  procur- 
ed  some  edibles  during  their  expeditioii,.somo  ordinary    ^ 
fish,  and  others  shell  fish.    The  supper  was  prepared,  and 
it  was  disposed  of  merrily;  for  before  commencing  his  re- 
past, Maleficieux  made  the  remark,  that  the  wind  havftfe 
veered  to  the  southeast,  it  was  t6  be  presumed  that  the 
Castor  would  reappear  next  morning. 

"If  your  prediction  proves  true,  sailor,"  said  Grosbec, 
"  I  swear  to  make  you  king of  libertines." 

"And  I,"  said  Nabot,  "I  demand  t^at  the  very  illus- 
trious  Brise-tout  be  nominated  pope  of  fools." 

"  Well  done !"  exclaimed  the  guests,  who  suspended  their 
noisy  mastication  to  give  a  mocking  look  at  the  hi 
countenance  of  the  colossus. 

"Omelette!"  said  the  latter,  without  lodng  a  mouthful. 
"He  will  pay  for  it  to  me." 

"In  monkey  coin!"  retorted  the  dwar^  with  a  look  of 
SQDJttLat  Brise-tout. 

Set  you  take  care  of  yourself,"  said  Grosbec;  "  when 
■  thyelfiphant  is  tired  playing  with  a  cur  he  crushes  him." 

%"Fshawj"_Bneered^the  little  man,  «ij»8  ^araeter^of^iy 
nd  Brise-tout  is  too  delicately  conformed  to  big  face. 

«r 
9. 


y 


'^ 


-^ 


158 


There  is  no  danger  thgy||yg)fe  ke  my  sweets  for  absynth. 
Not  the  son  of  VeWlheUgTy !'» -  <^'      '- 

^^Satane  diabolieuP''  said  Pl)i]ip  FranccDur,  tapi)ing  Na- 
bot  on  the  cheek  with  the  handle  pf  his  knife.      '^,'  ■ 

"Yes,  a  devil,  whom  I'll  reduce  to  the  state  of  an  aiigel," 
grumbled  the  colossus^.  ■     / 

"Plague !  the  reduction  will  not  be  the  more.to  be  dis- 
*^ained.    I,  who  have  never  been  worth,  a  farthing,  shall 
|pot  see  myself  mptat^oi-phosed  without  pleasure.      Oh, 
what's  the  matter?    A  bucket  of  water  I     J^er  Poly- 
,  l^tis  finds  himself  unwell.     Quick,  quick!     Don't  you" 
B»e'|ie  puts  out  his  tongue  like  one  balancing  on  the  gal- 
lows?" 

Nabot  spoke  tri!fl|.  Brise-tout,  whose  anger  co^d  not 
restrain  a  frightful  voracity,  had*|tt8t  swallowed  a  fish-bone, 
aftd  A\^^ak|^  unheard-of  efforts  to  deliver  himself  of  the 
borie  sralc  in  his  throat.  He  gesticulated,  became  enraged, 
pei^j)i|ed,  wept,  frothed,  but  in  vain.   'The  bone,  far  from 

fdin§«^fs  attempts  #^,  expecto^e,  stuek  deeper  and 
deepen  irito  the  flesh.  *        ^4.,  ^^  ai^       ^       - 

I  leave  the  readej 
of  the  spectators. 

"A  pdr  6f  pencllSo  all  our  Hercules,"  said  one. 
*.    "  Noi  do  not  deprive  him  of  the  merit  of  accomplishing 
alone,  and  without  assistance,  this  third  labor,"  replied  tho 
ex-lancer. 

^^SaeramenteP^  added  the  German,  "  he  is  just  going  if 
you  donH  onliatton  him."  ^ 


^ 


9m,-     •»■*  vK    ■ 

^me-  how  great  was  the  hilarity 


«* 


^' 


^% 


\ 


'i 


Jii.\ 


■m-' 


vmVim,'  •* 


W^f 


:-'f  -.^i-^iiY"^  ^,^^„^,rf?    -^  .^ 


ibsynth. 

ins  Na-      % 


't 


169 

*'  Poor  dear,"  continued  Nabot,  laughing  to  tears,  "  don't 
..  be  discouraged.     Valor  1     Yet  another  grant  I     Stronger  I 
there— well — that's  the  way !" 

"  He  will  conquer !— He  will  not !  I  told  you  ho  would 
conquer  !-|t  told  fou  not— Let  ,U3  bet— There,  hp  is 
choking!"  ,  "  ' 

^  "  For  God's  sake,  my  love,  at  least  do  not  break  that 
bone.  I  will  keep  it ;  I  will  preserve  it  as  a  reUc,  in  order 
to  make  a  tooth-pick  !"  *     ' .     , 

The  peals  of  laughter  were  redoubled. 

However,  the  aftliir  was  not  laughable  in  itself;  and 

Francis  Rivet  did  not  laugh.     His  countenance,  Uvid,  and 

marked  with  re^^spots,  contracted  with  pain,  his  mouth 

yjk  open  and  inundated  with  saliva  aiid  blood,  his  large  Staryig 

^^▼ey«8i  of  which  the  pupils  hid  under  the  lids ;  his  body 

agitated  with  spasmodic  movements,  presented  a  homble 

^    picture,     whilst    the    cavernous    sounds     which    grated 

in  escaping  from   his   breast,    would    have  #^zen    with 

fright  any  other  spectators  than  those  whicfe  |i&unded 

"  What  a  head !"  said  the  incorrigible  dwarf.     "  Is  there 
r^^np  painter  among  us  ?" 

^?  T  "Why  is  Signor  Titian  dead?"  added  a  Piedraontese. 

"Ah,  but,"  pursued  Nabot,  " Christian  charity  requires 
us  to  pray  for  those  in  pain.  Let  us,  then,  pray  for  our 
uufortimate  companion  drawing  his  last  breath." 

"-^g  profundi  Qj^mmQl  stammerei  ftrnsbec,      "  Tol 


die  of  a  fish-bone  is  a  lamentable  destiny.    Regretted  Brise- 


^ 


160 

tout,  I  will  oompoBO  an  elegy  on  his  death.    I  mil  sing  of 

hia  stoicism  in  suffering.      I  will  deliver  his  funeral  oration 

with  th^- accompaniment  of  a  Jew's  harp  and  a  wooden 
corn-creak." 

"There  is  your  epitaph,  dear  cherubim,"  said  Nabot. 
"Hear  and  judge,  before  sacrificing  yourself  in  the  prima 
of  life,  to  the  worms  of  thie  grave," 

Gf&ss  as  this  buffoonery  was,  it  had  the  effect  of  bringing 
to  a  climax  the  gpod  humor  of  the  bandits,  who  clapped 
their  hands  with  frenzy;  for  nothing  is  more  acceptable  to 
the  vulgar  than  that  which  humbles  a  superior  being. 

But  the  thing  had  bebn  carried  too  far.    Irritated  by  ex- 
crutiatmg  pain,  the  ^ctim  of  their  farce  suddenly  pounced 
on  his  tormentors,  like  a  bull  exasperated  by  the  lances  of 
the  picadors,  seized  Grosbeo  by  one  hand,  and  Nabot  with 
the  other,  lifted  them  off  the  ground,  held  them  a  moment 
in  the  air,  and  with  his  eye  covered  with  blood,  l^Ups 
with  foam,  he  was  going  to  knock  their  heads  against 
each  other,  when  an  insupportable  spasm  forced  him  to 
loosen  his  grasp.    Brise-tout  returned,  uttering  a  suffocat- 
ing  cry.    Behind  him  stood  Maleficieux,  who,  armed  with 
a  burning  stick,  thought  it  well  to  apply  the  extremity  to 
the  cheek  of  the  giant,  as  the  only  moans  of  saving  the  im- 
prudents  fallen  in  the  power  of  his  rage.    Insanity  com- 
menced to  gain  on  Francis  Rivet.    He  saw  no  more ;  heard 
no  more.    The  veins  of  his  temples  were  swoUen  beyond 
measure.    A  delirious  fever  raged  in  his  brain.    Incapable 
-of^xcflcctioa,  guided  uj^  i^^tfee  iraTnct  of  aalrnfeted 


?*« 


"       16X 

animal,  he  leaped  at  the  new  enemy  who  dared  to  bravfi 
his  fnry.    But  Philip  Fraricoeur  was  as  agile  as  a  squirrel. 
He  threw  away  his  brand,  precipitated  himself  on  Brise- 
tout,  leaped  on  his  back,  seized  him  vigorously  by  the  neck, 
and  aided  by  some  other  bandits  who  wished  to  join  him, 
threw  the  giant  on  the  ground.     There  a  terrible  struggle 
took  place,  the  struggle  of  a  bear  attacked  by  a  pack  of 
hounds ;  but  succumbing  Hi  the  end  to  the  number  of  his 
assailants,  Brise-tout  made  a  desperate  effort  to  free  him- 
self; and  while  all  his  muscles  Were  distended,  all  bis  phys- 
ical faculties  in  full  play,  a  terrible  bellowing  burst  from 
his  larynx,  with  streams  of  blood.    The  bone  had  disen^ 
gaged  itself  ia  this  supreme  convulsion,  and  Francis  llivet 
signalized  in  his  own  way  the  ternrfnation  of  his  suffering. 
ISfevertheless,  he  got  rid  of  one  evilonly  to  exchange  it  for 
one  a  hundred  times  woi-se;  for  his  adversaries,  exasperated 
by  the  blows  he  had  given  them,  were  by  no  means  dis- 
posed to  abandon*  him ;  but  the  arrival  of  John  de  Ganay 
was  the  signal  of  his  ddiverance. 

The  row  had  attracted  the  attention  of  the  viscount,  who 
was  promenading  alone  on  the  beach.  He  hastened  to 
pacify  the  combatants ;  and  returned  after  having  been  as- 
sured  by  Malkmi^^  that  order  would  be  maintamed. 

The  night  had^ilready  veiled  the  Isle  of  Sable.  How- 
ever, the  convicts  felt  no  inclination  to  sleep.  The  scene 
jnst  referred  to  had  excited  them  too  much  to  compose 
themselves  so  soon.  The  fire  was  revived ;  each  took  his 
place  around  it  with  the  exception  of  Brls^tout,  who  per- 


sisted  In  grumbling  in  a  corner;  and  yitiding  to  the  solicit- 


^ 


mm 


"-<.•, 


162 

ations  of  Lis  cortirades,  who  begged  him  to  tell  a  stot-y, 
the  sailor,  Philip  Fradcojux,  expressed  hiniSQlf  in  these 
terms:  '^v 


J 


\6» 


Y 


k^ 


.    \ 


"i. 


X 


'■-fV 


■  I 
«  / 


i^' 


V-  i, 


i? 


/• 


*       • 


a  stoi-y, 
in  these 


<■ 


<.^ 


a 


% 


'  CHAPTER  V. 


T  H  fc    r.  :q:  G  E  3sr  D. 


\^ 


*^^  Webl,  by  boys,  open  yotrf-  hatches,  for  I  am  going  to 
linfold  a  long  cf^)le.  Not  to  bewilder  you  in  a  maze  of 
phrsjises,  there  are  no  doubt  soflie  among  you  Avho  have 
beat  about  the  Rue  du  Poss^dd,  at  St.  Malo ;  a  narrow,  ' 
tortuous  street,  as  sombre  as  the  stetrage  of  the  Castor. 
By  Neptune,  it  is  well  named  the  Rue  du  Possdtti?  (Street 
of  the  Possessed).  When  onfe  W^s  its  delapidated  worm- 
eaten  houses,  he  feels  ready  t*' commit  his  soul  to  God. 
What  stench !  What  a  foretaste  of  hell !  And  it  is 
haunted  even  at  the  present  day  only-iby  emissaries  of  thef-i'-i* 
♦^evil.  It  is  here,  then,  we  are  about  to  cast  anchor  for  a 
moment.  .  •        '  •  7 


o„' 


*' Forty  years  have  now  passed  slftce  thf}  Rue  du  Possi^Jd 
was  the  terror  of^the  brave,  devoted  people  of  St.  Malo, 
"who  regularly  paid  their  tithes,  an(H nevev;failed,  on  returur' 
ing  from  a  8ea-voyage,-.to  pfler  a  farge  yellow  wax  candlo     ^    'j^ 


/«,. 


StkkL^iX,^!,. 


'Vi^  , 


i^ 


1    .,;.*„ 


M. 


■'-^  164 

to  our  Lady  of  Good-Succor.  But  Lucifer  is  a  cunning 
chap.  No  doubt  you  have  heard  how  he  bewitched  the 
soul  of  a  poor  fisherman  of  the  Rue  du  Poss^d^. 

"  Well,  by  the  trident  of  Xeptune  I    You  will  see  how  the 
fisherman  became  amorous,  yes,  amorous,  my  boys ;  and 
of  the  most  beautiful  girl  in  St.  Malo!    But  she  was  as. 
proud  as  a  duchess.    Yes,  indeed,  by  the  trident  of  Nep-' 
tune;  and  James  tried  in  vain,  he  could  not  anchor  in  the 
heart  of  his  beloved.    This  rendered  him  sad  and  sombre 
as  a  tempest ;  so  touch  so  that  he  finally  shut  himself  up  in 
his  steerage  of  the  Rue  du  Possddd,  and  that  it  was  soon 
discussed  in  the  neighborhood  every  Sunday.    Yes,  indeed 
by  the  trident  of  Neptune  1 

"In  the  mean  time,  Dame  Louison pemitted  herself  to 
heijourted  by  the  son  of  a  currier,  who  was  very  rich,  and 
so  good  a  fellow  that  it  was  regarded  as  a  real  pleasure  to 
see  them  dance  together  Sundays,  after  vespers. 

"It  had  been  agreed  that  they  would  get  married  after 
Easter ;  but  when  the  old  people  were  spoken  to  about  the 
marriage,  they  shook  their  heads,  saying: 

" '  The  poor  children  1  the  poor  children !  Ah,  it  is  much 
to  be  feared  that  Jacot  will  play  them  a  bad  trick !' 

"Ay,  and  the  old  people  were  right;,  for  do  you  see,  my 
boys,  those  who  have  navigated  on  the  ocean  have  an  ex- 
perience of  whicli  youth  is  ignorant.  Yes,  indeed,  by  the 
trident  of  Neptune. 

*Tho  fact  is,  that  those  who  remarked  Jacot,  could  not 
be  mistaken  in  regard  to  his  designs.  One  day  he  wsS^ 
pale  as  a  new  sail;  another,  green  as  the  leaves  of  a  sa^:" 


165 


3  how  the 
oys;  and 
5  was  as. 
of  Nep-t 
lor  in  the 
I  sombre 
5elf  up  in 
was  soon 
},  indeed, 


see,  my 
e  an  ex- 
,  by  the    v 


ling;  another,  as  red  as  blood;  and  always,  always  his  eyes 
sparkled  like  coals  of  fire. 

♦'  Some  went  so  far  as  to  say  that  streams  of  snlphur  and 
Vtumen  flowed  from  his  mouth;  others  had  it  that  peals 
of  thunder  issued  from  his  house  at  night,  even  when  the 
sky  was  pure  and  serene ;  some  had  seen  hkn  make  the 
sign  of  the  cross  with  his  leh  hand;  so  that  the  Rue  du 
Poss<^d^  was  abandoned  by  degrees,  and  he  remained  alone, 
in  company  with  demons.  Yes,  indeed,  by  the  trident  of 
Jupiter  I 

**  It  happened  that  on  the  Sunday  evening  before  she  was 
to  be  married  t6  the  son  of  the  leather  dresser,  he  invited 
her  to  take  a  sail  with  him  in  his  boat. 

"  The  weather  was  delightful,  ahd  ibame  Louison  had  the 
misfortune  to  accppt.  They  stari|ed  at  two  o'clock,  gay 
and  joyous,  in  a  little  bark  almost  covered  with  ribbons. 
But  the  moment  they  quitted  the  j|}each,  a  black  boat  was 
observed  in  the  distance,  which  h^i^ted  sail,  and  seemed  to 
watch  the  young  people.  Immediately  all  at  the  shore  were 
overwhelmed  with  friglit.  - 

"  TWe  black  boat  was  that  of  James. 

"Dame  Louison  who  was  the  first  to  distinguish  it,  felt 
the  chilness  of  death  running  in  her  veifts. 

" '  Let  us  return,  iet  us  return  to  land,'  6aid  she  to  hef 
lover.        ^  . 

"'Return  to  land,  Why?*       '  '       .  -     .     , 

"♦I  tremble!'  .  "  , 


i(  ( 


But 


►  I* 


ya 


■^'^ii. ■' 


-'■-'     -/"^^j'^-^i  v< 


166 

* 

See,'  said  she,  showing  him  with  the  point  of  her  fiir- 
ger  the  skiff,  from  the  hull  of, which  flowed^uch  a  stream 
Of  light  that  it  made  the  rays  of  the  sun  seem  pale— 

*'What,sacrameuto?  theskia'burnediu  the  midst  of  the 
sea!"      . 

,      «  Burned!"  repUed  Maleficeux,  "  who  has  told  you  that  it " 
burned  ?"  ^  , 

*'  Since  it  was  on  fire  !** 
V.   •  "Ah!  novice,  does  the  fire  of  hell  burn  the  demons?" 
"Brute  of  a  Gei-man,"   said   Grosbec,   shruggin<.  his 
shoulders.    "  You  have neverseen  anything.  CoaUaue'^your 
story,  sailor." 

_^"Yes,  indeed,  by  the  trident  of  Neptune,"  resumed 
,  Phihp  FrancoDur,  "  burning  flames  streamed  from  the  black 
skiff;  and  James  stood  up  in  the  middle  of  it  as  tall  as  the 
mast  of  a  man^f-wai-f  his  mouth  voriiiting  torrents  of 
smoke, 

"All  on  the  beach  mw  him,  with  the  exception  bf  the 
currier's  son,  whxi,.  far  from  listening  to  the  prayers  of 
^    Louison,  commenced  to  row  exactly  iu'the  direction  of  the 
black  skiff. 

"The  latter  receded  towards, the  north,  and  the  currier's 
boat  followed.    The  bbck  skiff  having  tacked  about,  tho 
other  tacked  .also.    It  was  said  that  the  former  must  be  i 
loadstone,  and  the  latter  iron  so  faithfully  did  they  perfoi^m 
t^e  same  evolutions.  ..        ^  f 

»♦  However,  the  l^oat  approached  the  Wack  *kiff  by  dfe. 
6i-ee8,aati  after  an  bftur^s  manffiu^ring  in.the.^bay  they    ' 


■h    ^ 


.(r^ 


A, 


-  -"i 


'.-    V 


167 

tuped  suddenly  towards  the  north,  and  both  steered  in 
that  direction. 

"In  a  shod;  iinie  they  almost  touched  each  other.    The 


ea  roai 


agitated  se/>oared  on  the  rocks,  and  flocks  of  griffins, 
larger  than  vultures,  cut  the  air  with  their  wings,  utterhig 
lugubrious  cries^  ""  ^ 

"The  two  boats  still  appeared';  but  only^lke  a  camp-^re 
\t  the  confines  of  the  horizon.  Then  all  of  a  sudden,  a 
frightful  peal  of  thunder  Vas  heard,  and  after  that  nothing 
was  seen-exQept  the  sea  white  with  foam,  extended  along" 
the  beach,    .  .  ^ 

■       .'■•..  ^   -        #-■        '   . 

.  "The  people  of  St.  Malo  went  to  the  church,  and  prayed 
to  the  Holy  Virgin  to  save  Louison  and  the  son  of  the 
leather-dresser.    The  day  passed  .vithout  any  news  having 
been  heard  in  regard  to  them;    but  jgwards  midnight/ 
when,  the  storm  was  at  its  height,  the  mariners  reiparked  by 
the  flashes  of  lightning  th'at  a  small  boat  entered  ^e  harbor. 
It  was.  observed  to  contain  two  persons,  a  man  and  a  ^voman: 
'  Inlanding,the  man  put  Ws'arm  about  the  woman's  neck,and 
said  :  '  You  will  swear  to  me,  §L  the  salvation  of-$'our  soul,: 
that  you  are  mine.'  'Yes,  yours,  nobody's  but  yours;  ^  ways'  - 
yours  I'  replied  the  woman.    The  unknown  then,jtoo^d 
his  head,  and  embraced  the  woman.  She  uttered  a  ciy,  and 
the  saHors  saw  a  glistening  circle  at  the  place  where  the 
maa  had  put  his  lips.    The  sailors  ^d  horror-stricken! 

♦♦Next day  it  was  reported  at  St.  Malo  that,  swaUowe^  ' 
np  with  his  boat  during  the  storm;  t;he  son  of  i)xe  currier 
h^d  perished,  and  that  Loiiisoa  was  saved  bynames  thQ 


■■*• 


■^ 


«*■ 


-t *» fr 


0\ 


1» 


\ 


*i  ,-  T-  rj^'v*^*'?"*^'*  15^*^  '^^ 


168 


"Some  believed  the  recital ;  others  regarded  the  fad  as  a 
magical  charm ;  yes,  indeed,  by  the  trident  of  Neptune ! 

"What  is  certain  is,  that  in  one  month  after  Louispii 
married  James,  the  poor  fisherman  became  a  rich  captain, 
and  receive4  ^om  the  king  a  commission  to  go  with  two 
ships  to  reconnoitre  the  shores  of  Newfouna^d. 
/'  Not  possible !"  said  the  German.       ' 

*     "Itwas,  then,  James  Cartier,^'«ddedGrosbec.     ^ 

"It  was  James,. and  that's  all  I  know  of  it,  my  boys," 
replied  Maleficieux  witfi  a  knowing  air.  "  My  grandfather, 
from  whom  I  got  the  story,  did  not  tell  me  any  more." 

"But  what  waj^did  your  James  die  ?"  asko.]  Nabot,  who 
had  listened  attentively  to  the  legend  of  the  sailor,  with 
his  elbows  on  his  knees,  and  his  face  resting  on  the  palm, 
of  his  hand. 

"In  what  way  did  he  die;  yes,  how  did  he  die  ?"  added 
the  ex-lancer. - 

All  eyes  were  turned  towards  Philip  Francceur. 
•       "Ah !  there  it  is,"  said  he,  with  the  complaisance  of  a 
narrator  who  has  captivated  the  attention  of  his  audience; 
"that  is  something  that  has  never  been  found  out,  and 
never  will  bd;  yes,  indeed,  by  the  trident  of  Neptune!" 
Each  of  the  bandits  made  &  gesture  of  disappointment 
"  However,"  resumed  Maleficieux,  seeming  to  collect  his 
souvenirs,  "I  will  relate  what  I  have  been  assured  by  my 
grandfather,  who  was  weU  acquainted  with  James: 

"A  certain  evening,  the  fisherman  having  m^t  Louison, 
begged  her  to  consent  to  become  his  wile. 


1  :  mil 


:n 


added 


*  169  ■ 

«'I  will  accc<1e  to  your  wishes  when  you  can  give  me  a 
hundred  crowns  in  gold,'  replied-she,  - 

« A  hundred  crowns  in  gold !  it  is  mOrd  than  James  cmild 
amass  by  twenty  year^'  labor."  He  returned  to  his  cabin  in 
despair,  and  dccicfed  to  commit  suicide.  But  just  as  he 
was -passing  his-  neck  into  the  cord  which  was  to  deprive 
him  of  a  life  that  had  become  insupportable,  a  little  man, 
clad  m  black,  suddenly  entei^ed  his  chamber. 

" '  What's  that  you  are  doing  ?' 

"James  made  no  reply.  The  appearance  okhe  little  man 
terrified  him.  ,  \ 

"'You  want  to  hang  yourself,  imbecile,'  continue^he 
stranger.  *  Muck -rather  burn  that  rope,  and  marry  the 
one  you  love.'  J       * 

■  ./ 

" '  Marry  Louison!' 

Yes,  certainly,  would  you  not  prefer  that  ?' 
"'Oh!  yes  but-' 

" '  But  you  want?  a  hundred  crowns  in  gold,  do  you  not  ? 
and  I  will  give  you  a  thousand.'    / 
"'You  J'  ,         .        \ 

"'Why  not?' 

_    "The  looks  of  the  little  man  were  not  well  calculated  to 
inspire  conMence  ;  for  through  the  port-holes  of  his  blact 
.coat  was  to  be  seen  his  dirty,  hairy  skin ;  then  he  felt  iU. 
"  'Well,'  said  he  with  a  sort  of  titter,  '  follow  me.  V 
"James  hardly  knew  whether  he  was  dead   or  alive, 
however,  he  approached  the  stranger. 
"  TVTiere  will  we  go  ?'  asked  he 


"^"JX,'"^ ,.. 'L 


Ife 


X  ."■-■ '  ■.'■  -■'^^'^^^-•'■5.^'^?■  ;iS;r>>.sr-: 


170 


'* '  Get  on  my  shoulders.* 

** '  I  am  too  heavy ;  I  shall  break  your  back.' 

" '  Never  mind  that — get  up !' 

"He  obeyed.    The  little  man  tittered  again,  and  said  : 

" '  Are  you  up  ?'  . 

"' Yes,' replied  the  fisliermanj^embling  all  over,  form 
crossing  his  arms  round  the  neck  of  the  stranger  it  seemed 
as  if  he  had  applied  them  to  a  red  iron ;  James  wished  to 
jump  on  the  ground;  he  could  not ;  his  fingers  were  rivet- 
ed to  each  other,  and  his  thighs  fastened  to  the  haunches  of 
the  little  mah,  who  immediately  ^lasphemed  the  name  of 
God,  rose  to  the  ceiling,  which  opened  to  make  a  passage 
for  him,  and  in  less-  than  a  second  transported  the  poor 
fishei-man  to  the  top  of  a  precipice  twenty  leagues  from 
St.  Malo ;  yes,  inde^,  by  the  trider^t  of  Neptune  I 

"There  a  crowd  of  monsters  of  all  kinds  growled  about  a 
large  pot  in  which  the  members  of  a  human  being  .were   ' 
cooking.  ,  .,^'        \     \ 

"The  little  man  placed  James  ne^r  the  pot,  apd  said  to 
him :    '  Look !' 

"  The  unfortunate  man,  although  half  dead  with  fright, 
looked  and  recognized  the^Jiead  of  the  currier's  son,  his 
rival,  which  the  water,  in  boiling,  caused  to  rise  to  the  sur- 
face. V         , 

"  ♦  Horror !'  exclaimed  he. 

"  *  You  will  drinK  a  part  of  this  broth,  my  friend,' 
hideous  old  wocHan,  covered  w>th  wrinkles,  who  s 
the  pot. 


-w/ 


' 


id  said : 

ver,  for  m 
it  seemed 
K'ished  to 
'^ere  rivet- 
unches  of 
!  name  of 
a  passage 
the  poor 
jues  from 

i  about  a 
sinff  were 

'^  A  V 

d  said  to 

Lh  fright, 

son,  his 

•  the  sur- 


^ 


"*  No,  no  I  never  r' 

"The  monsters  broke  out  into  vociier^ns,  and  com- 
menced a  Satanic  dance  around  the  fire. 

«  A  cold  perspiration  sufmsed  the  hmbs  of  James-  and 
strange  to  say,  the  blood  ran  through  his  veins  a^  cold  as 
frozen  lead.  T 

'"I  am  thirsty,'  stammered  he.  '       "  v 

«  The  imprecations  of  the  monsters  redoubled. 

"'Plere  is  some  broth}  drink  I' said  the  old  ^man.      . 
"  He  jumped,  back  with  horror,  but  in  an  instant  after  ex- 
claimgd:  \ 

Some  drink ;  oh,  give  me  something  to  drink !'    ^ 

" '  The  broth  is  ready ;  drink !'  'repeated  the  ojd  woman. 

"James  lost  his  senses ;  his  burning®^  ^Iciaed  his  teeth, 
and  his  saUva  was  transformed  into  vHrlbl; 
'     " '  I  want  a  drink ;  give  me  something  to-  drink !' 

" '  Here,  irink,  my  love  !''  said  the  old  woman,  presentin.. 
him  a  spoon  fiUed  with  the  infamous  beverage;  'drinl^ 
and  yoa  wiU  wed  the  beautiful  Louison.'  ^ 

"James,  not  knowing  any  longei^'what  he  was  doincr 
took  the  spoon  raised  it  to  his  lips,  but  seized  witha  remorrj 
of  conscience,  he  threw  it  away,  as  f^r^s  L  could.  But  " 
alas,  it  was  too  late  ^  a  drop  of  thp  brffii'  which  fell  on  his 
tongue  sealed  for  aU  eternity  his  compact  with  the  demons. 
Yes,  ui(feed,  by  the  trident  of  JJ-eptuue!  ,  -         ' 

^   "Immediately  the  monsters  a|)g||gched  James,  kissed  him 
in  turn  on  both  cheeks,  and 
frightfiil  clatter. 


*  M^ 


4  '■'spfy  rmi(K     •'^y^'n  Tjen-  'rj.     '        ^""W* 


172 

"James  found  himself  alone  on  the  precipice,  with  the 
little  man. 

'"Well,  noAv,  what  do  you  wish  ?'  asked  the  devil ;  for  it 
was  Satan.    Yes,  indeed,  by  the  trident  of  2Jeptime  I 

"  'To  wedLouison,'  replied  the  fisherman,  who  no  Ipnger 
entertained  any  fear  of  Satan. 

" '  You  will  wed  herj  but  then?* 

" '  To  be  rich.' 

'".You  will;  but  then?' 

'"Cause  me  to  bo  spoken  of  throughout  the  world  for 
turics  to  come.'  ' 

„  ,y'  "  The  Prince  of  Darkness  made  the  usual  sneering  grim- 
ace. 


" '  It  will  be  done  according  to  your  will  ;• 

"'Nothing.' 

" '  You  are  not  ambitious,  indeed !  Rarely  haye  I  got  any 
soul  so  cheap  a^  yours.  But  as  short  accounta  make  long 
friends,  first  sign  this  paper.'  .  •  ' 

"'What  is  it?' 

*' '  Oh,  a  trifle !     Only  the  sale  of  your  soul  for  love,  for- 
.tune,  and  glory.    Sign,  please ;  time  presses.' 

.  ",  James  shuddered.     Two  pictures  unrolled'  themselves 
before  his  eyes.    Here  his  mother  and  his  guardian  angel  ,^ 
conjuring  him  not  to  abandon  the  path  of  virtuej  there 
Pleasure,  shoAving  him  her  allurements,  leanmg  on  the 
arms  of  Luxury  and  Renown. 

i       ■  '  ■ 


?^-M-' 


,  with  the 

evil ;  for  it 
we  I 

no  Ipnger 


world  for 


ring  grim- 


I  got  any 
aake  long 


lov«,  for- 

lemselves 
ian  angel, 
uej  there 
r  on  the 


173 

^  James  signed  I 

Get  on  my  back  once  more,' 


tt  < 


SHrtl 


the  devil 


r 


"  Raising  >  him  like  a  feather,  they  crossed  the  bay,  the 
ocean,  and  arrived  at  a  savage  country,  covered  with  snows 
and  ice,  inhabited  by  men  who  no  longer  resembled  otlier 
human  beings  any  more  than  a  land  Wolf  resembles 
a  sea  wolf.  When  they  had  arrived,  the  devU  said  to 
^Jack: 

" '  Do  you  know  whafthis  coimlry  is  ?♦ 

"'No.'  .:  ■ 

■"It  is  a  country  into  which  I  have  not  yet  extended  my 
dominion,  but  into  wliich  I  shall  extend  it  in  two  hundred 
years,  with  your  aid.  You  know  your  route.  Return 
h9me;  for  it  is  not  .good  for  me  to  be  here  yet  a  while; 
and  When  you  wish  you  can  immortalize  j^urself  Dig 
under  the  gate  of  your  garden,  and  you  will  find  the  thou- 
sand crowns  of  gold  I  promfised  you.  Yours,  then,  bo 
love,  glory,  wealth.    Mine,  your  soul  1' 

"Fear  returned  to  James.  He  made  a  violent  effort  to 
separate  from  Satan,  and  found  himself  alone  in  his  house 
in  the  Rue  du  Possedd. 

"  It  was  broad  daylight.  Yes,  indeed,  by  the  trident  of 
Neptune  I 

"Satan  had  not  deceived  him.  Having  dug  in  the  garden, 
as  directed,  he  found  a  casket  contaming  a  thousand  crowns 
ofgold. 


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33  WEST  AAAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  NY.  14580 

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174 

"I  have  told  you  how  he  married  I^uison;  how  he  set 
out  to  explore  the  Banks  of  Newfoundland.  At  present,  it 
only  remains  for  me  to  tell  you,  that,  having  refound  the 
country  to  which  the  devil  had  shown  him  the  wayj  and 
amassed  innumerable  treasures,  he  had  undertaken  his 
eighth  voyage  to  New  France,  when  Satan  appeared  to 
him  in  a  storm. 

*'  James  grew  pale  at  the  sight  of  him. 

" '  Have  I  kdpt  my  word  ?'  said  the  Prince  of  Dark- 
ness. * 

" '  Yes.' 

" '  And  you  have  been  happy?'  " 

*'  James  shook  his  head,  white  with  age,  by  which  he 
meant  no. 

"  The  devil  smiled  with  a  sardonic  grin. 

" '  So  much  the  worse,'  said  he.  Your  soul  is  mine ;  the 
hour  is  come  I'  , 

A  flame  scintillated  at  the  extremity  of  the  main-mast ; 
a  wave,  high  as  a  mountain,  struck  the  prow  of  the  vessel. 
Ten  minutes  after,  she  had  disappeared  with  all  she  con- 
tained." 

"And  James?"  exclaimed  Nabot. 

"  James !  1  don't  know.  Yes,  indeed,  by  the  trident  of 
Neptune  1"  replied  Philip  Francoeur.  "  Now,  good-night, 
my  boys;  don't  ha^bj^iafeams ;  and  may  God  preserve 
us  from  the  deviW  ^?es,  indeed- 1" 


k> 


M 


f.^,.,v,j..     -r.. 


>  ■  t  .-.  ■■ 


-  A 


;  how  he  set 
\t  present,  it 
refound  the 
he  wayi  and 
lertaken  his 
appeared  to 


175 


Malificieux  did  not  finish  liis  oath,  of  which  a  glofioas 
snoring  took  th«  place  of  the/nafe  - 

He  was  sound  asleep.  > 


.** 


ice  of  Dark- 
ly 


>y  which  he 


is  mine ;  the 


•t- 


"^V 


main-mast ; 
f  the  vessel, 
all  she  con- 


0^ 


le  trident  of 
good-night, 
od  preserve 


#1 


/« 11 


CHAPTER  VL 


Q>      f ' 


T  JI  E     S  H  I  r  w  R  :K  O  K. 

Th^  next  and  following  clays  it  rained  so  incessantly 
^.  that  the  convicts  were  oblig^ed  to  remain  ha  the  vicinity  of 
their  encampment.    John  de  Ganay  would  have  prefer^l^ 
that  the  weather  wonld  allow  him  to  reconnoitre  the  yAWF 
island,  but  finding  it  impossible  to  do  so,  he  wished  the 
bandits  to  occupy  theirtime  m  some  useful  labor.    I^ noth- 
ing proved  that  the  Castor  would  soon  return  for  them 
It  was  equally  true  that  nothing  proved  the  contrary.' 
Who  knows?     Weeks  might  pass  before  her  return.     It 
was  important,  therefore,  to  prepare  for  the  worst.     Be- 
sides, John  knew  that  idleness  is  a  bad  counselor.     When 
occupied,  his  men  reflected  less  on  the  uncettainty  of  their 
fate,  and  habituated  themselves  by  degrees  to  colonial  life 
and  labgrs. 

He  commenced  by  causing  a. sort  of  intrenchment  to  be 
made  around  the  tents.    Large  piles,  sharpened'  at  the  end, 


.f~ 


-».l,. 


'U-z 


177 


y  of 


'  incessantly 

e  vicinity  of 
MA 
-e  prefer 

e  the  v^lj! 

wished  the 

►r.    I^noth- 

1  for  themj 

5  contrary. 

return.     It 

iv'orst.     Be- 

ov.    "When 

ity  of  their 

Jolonial  life 

went  to  be 
It  the  end, 


hardened  in  the  fire,  and  intertwined  with  flexib].  i        u 
-         served  for  this  purpose.  '^^'  ^'•^°^^««' 

The  equerry  would  have  wished  to  dig  a  ditch  for  m 
secunty;  but  all  his  efforts  were  fruitress.     T  e Tonr 

the  opening  he  had  made.  ^"^ 

Several  times  John  conceived  tho  r^i        /•      • 

on  each  occasion  some  fear  prevented  him.  '     "' 

.     ■  In  order  to  guide  the  course  of  the  P„..„     ■ 

other  successively  at  every  hour  °"™™'7'»«''«'«deach 
ther  post  wa,  fo^ed  nelr  the  '"'1  "'""'•    ^"°- 

confided  the  eommaud  oT  •      ,        "'  '"^  "^'*"  ^'  «'«"'y 

-  found  to  ::z:z%trz:  r """"  -- 

judicious  as  they  were  able     Tt.       T  ^   "'  '''™  "' 

of  aumn'qo    if  1.  oDviated  the  danircr 

surpiise,  if,  perchance,  the  island" was  inh.j,-,  j  ,. 
ravages,  or  by  wUd  beasts.  ^''""'  '•^ 

»i.l>  &hes  S  tt  "'^^-I'Po^el  themselves 

Win.-  d  1  det  h  ,  '  T"'  '"  '"^  ''°"°*'"«  —  = 
out  ,L  "^  ""  ""=  ^^^  ''•'"«  the  tWe    was 

out,  they  s„.ro„nded  then,  with  osier,  hm-dies,  and  IZ 


/ 


1 

*. 

4— 

_J 

Hlllrf 

gm^^^ 

^^ia^^^ 

,^.  . 

<Mi 

m 

•.■^-^rpft  r,— ir-.-T^ryrif J» 


178 

for  the  return  of  the  tide ;  then,  when  the  water  retired, 
they  ran  to  t^eir  nets,  which  they  generally  found  filled 
with  cod,  herrings,  soles,  crabs,  and  other  fishes,  abounding 
on  the  shores  of  Acadia. 

Several  sea-birds  were  killed  besides,  which,  prepared  l^y 
Maleficieux,  the  inventor  of  the  mode  of  fishing  we  have 
just  described,  did  not  seem  the  least  palatable  dish  to 
those  who  tasted  tlfem. 

In  general,  the  bandits  did  not  evince  a  very  rebellious 
disposition.  Whether  it  was  that  they  were  aware  that  a 
mutiny  would  not,  in  any  respect,  ameUorate  their  condi- 
tion ;  or  whether  the  four  sailors  inspired  them  with  salu- 
tary fear,  they  implicitly  obeyed  the  orders  of  Jolm  de 
Ganay.  '  ■    * 

Sunday  was  clearer  than  any  of  the  five  preceding  days, 
although  the  sun  had  not  yet  appeared  above  the  horizon. 
Clouds,  tinged  with  gray,  covered  the  sky,  and  an  im- 
petuous wind  whistled  from  the  southwest. 

In  the  morning,  John  de  Ganay  gathered  around  him 
all  his  companions,  and  made  an  afiecting  speech,  exhort- 
ing them  to  patience.  Afterwards  he  read  them  some  pas- 
sages from  the  Bible.  They  listened  to  him  eagerly,  and 
several  of  them  were  moved  to  tears  by  the  consolin'^ 
maxims  of  the  Holy  Scriptures. 

After  these  pious  instructions,  John  advised  his  subord- 
inates not  to  go  far  from  their  tents,  for  the  tempest 
threatened,  and  as  they  had  not  yet  any  certain  knowledo-e 
of  the  island,  it  was  to  be  ieared  that  they  might  lose  their 
way  lathe  course  of  an  excttmou. 


JP^* 


Ti^i 


ter  retired, 
bund  filled 
abounding 

rep^red  l^y 
g  we  have 
ile  dish  to 

r  rebellious 
v^are  that  a 
beir  condi- 
with  salu- 
f  Jolm  de 

(ding  days, 
be  horizon, 
ind  an  im- 

round  him 
ch,  exhort- 
some  pas- 
igerly,  and 
consolinjr 

lis  subord- 
le  tempe||; 
tnowledjre 
t  lose  their 


--*K 


179  ^ 

But  there  was  no  need  of  these  recommendations ;  tlie 
bandits,  ftitigucd  with  their  previous  labors,  felt  much 
less  disposed  to  absent  theniselves  from  damp  than  to  re- 
pose on  their  beds  of  pine  branches,  whether  to  sle(5p,  or 
to  plot  between  themsQlves. 

A  few,  however,  proceeded  to  the  Mast  Post,  as  they 
called  the  corporal's  guard,  of  which  we  have  spoken,  where 
Maleficienx  was  required  to  tell  stories. 

Towards  three  o'clock,  in  the  afternoon,  the  wind,  which 
bad  not  ceased  to  agitate  the  air,  redoubled  its  violence.' 

"By  the  trident  of  Noptune,"  suddenly  exclaimed  Philip 
Francoeur,  interrupting  himself  in  the  most,  dramatic  pjirt 
of  his  story,  "  does  Monsieur  Boreas  wish  to  take  us  on 
board,  in  order  to  transport  us  to  the  other  side  of  the  At- 
lantic. This  would  not  be  a  bad  manoeuvre.  How.  ho  does 
scream  there,  the  old  fellow.     Hum  !"  - 

"  What  squalls !  what  squalls  !"  said  one  of  the  assistants. 

"They  are  quite  strong  enough  to  upset  our  tents," 
added  another.  ;         "^ 

"And  us  with  them,"  continued  a  third.  -^ 

"  Come,  now,"  said  Grosbec,  with  his  usual  self  sufficient 
air ;  "  venison  stomach !  have  you  ever  seen  the  wind  strike 
p,  man  like  a  branch  of  poplar  ?  This  would  do  in  fairy 
tales,  but — " 

"  Ah,  is  that  your  opinion,  good  lancer,"  said  Maleficieux, 
leering  at  Grosbec  with  a  dissatisfied  air.  "Is  that  your 
o]>inion  ?  And  if  I  said  that  I  who  speak  to  you,  have 
seen  with  my  own  eyes  what  is  called—" 

A  sharp  gust,  followed  by  a  crackling  and  an  irruption 
of  air  in  to  the  cabin,  cut  short  the  speech  of  the  sailor. 


'■■A:  ■;.«*■>*■ 


180 

e  storm  had  already  carried  away  the  roof  of  the 
'^ai^-house;  and  almost  at  the  same  moment  the  convict 
ivho  Vas  on  sentry  at  U^foot  of  the  great  inast,  shouted: 
\  "A  ship!     I  see  a  ship  1" 

\Surprise  and  joy  responded  to  this  exclamation! 

i^l  who  happened  to  be  in  the  guard-room  rushed  out. 

The  quarter-deck  of  a  ship  appeared  in  front  towards  the 
west.  But  the  condition  of  this  vessel,  whatever  she  might 
be,  was  evidently  frightful.  Three  cannon  shots  andablack 
flag,  displayed  from  the  extremity  of  a  poll,  announced  al- 
most immediately  th^  distress  of  those  on  board. 

"Bjr  the  trident  of  Neptunp,ahe  looks  like  the  Erable 
jfia,  indeed !"  said  Philip  Francceuf. , 

Tlie  iteports  of  the  three  cannons  had  resounded  tlirough 
the  tenti,  occupied  by  the  bandits.  Sleep,  conversations, 
songs,  stories,  all  were  immiediately  interrupted,  and  every 
body  raii  to  the  beach.  '^ 

The  storm  foamed  with  fury.  Large  copper-colored 
clouds  chased  each  other*'through  the  sky  with  fearful  rap- 
idity. Occasional  flashes  of  lightfiing  lit  up  the  meridian 
witli  their  forked  tongues.  The  wind,  impetuous  on^o- 
ment,  was  silent  the  next,  abandoning  the  atmosphere  to  a 
mortal  silence,  and  the  water  to  its  own  convulsions;  then, 
panting,  irritated,  burst  forth  like  a  thunderbolt,  whirled  in 
immense  columns,  mixing,  confounding,  annihilating,  rais- 
ing mountains  of  sand,  elevating  the  waves,  breaking  against 
each  other,  or  transporting  them  to  considerable  distances. 

John  de  Ganay  was  one  of 'the  first  to  arrive  at  the  rums 
of  the  guard-house. 


i$M>':'i 


181 

"  What's  the  matter  ?" 

"A  ship  was  in  view  a  moment  since,"  replied  Malofi- 
cieux.  "The  waves  hide  it  just  now,  but  it  Mill  s<$gn 
show  Itself," 

"Is  it  the  Castor f'  asked  the  viscount,  adjusting  to  hh 
'     eye  a  little  telescope  he  held  in  his  hand. 

"  Ido  not  know,  sir;  but  I  rather  think  it  is  the  Erable." 
^^^TheErable,  that,  God  pardon.me,  would  be  excellent 

The  satisfaction  of  the  equerry  brightened  up  every  fea- 
ture;  and  certainly  it  would  have  been  very  great  to  have 
ehcited  from  him  such  an  exclamation,  a  severe  Huguenot 
as  he  Avas,  * 

"  tos,  she  must  be  the  Erable,  by  the  trident  of  Nep- 
tune,"  continued  the  sailor.     « Is  not  her  bidwark  red  ?" 

«  Red,  bordered  with  blue,  I  remember  her  perfectly  •» 
replied  John  de  Ganay.  v 

"  Red  bordered  with  blue ;  it  is  she-  then  j,  you  can  be  as 
certam  of  it  as  that  my  name  is  Philip  Francceur,  surnamed 
the  Maleficieux." 

"Let  us  go  an  our  knees,  and  thank  the  Lord,  for  we 
are  about  to  be  saved,"  said  John. 
"  Saved  ?  not  so  fast  master." 
"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  . 

« I  mean  that  it  is  necessary  to  make  a  sign  to  that  ship 
at  onco  to  avoid-if  that  is  now  possible.    Otherwise-" 
The  sailor  raised  his  eyes  to  the  sky.  '' 

"  Otherwise  she  is  lost !"  exclaimed  the  viscount 


'iVf 


>  m^f0\ 


182 
"Lost,  yes,  I  can  assure  you." 
^     "  But  how  are  the  signs  to  be  made  ?" 
*ilt  is  .very  easy,  master." 

Closing  his  right  hand,  Philip  Francoeur  whistled  be- 
tween  his  fingers,  and  in  half  a  minute  after  the  three  other 
sailors,  his  companions,  were  at  his  side. 

They  conferred  briefly  together,  then  one  of  them  climb- 
ed up  the  adjacent  mast,  and  attached  two  poles  to  it,  in 
the  form  of  a  cross,  to  the  ends  of  which  were  fixed  pieces 
of  calico  of  various  shades  of  color,  and'  cords  that  reached 
the  ground;  and  having  finished  the  work,  he  descended. 

Tn  the  mean  time  the  vessel  had  re-appeared  on  the  foam 
of  the  waves. 

John  de  Ganay  saw  her  fully. 

It  was,  indeed,  the  Erable;  but  in  what  a  md  ^ate !  Her 
masts  broken,  her  bulwark  washed  away,  her  rigging  in 
pieces,  her  prow  fractured— all  told  of  a  long  and  terrible  * 
struggle  with  the  elements. 

Groups  of  men  encumbered  the  deck.  Among  these  men 
were  some  who  danced  like  demons;  others  who  cried  hke 
women;  others  avUo,  prostrate,  seemed  to  implore  with 
crossed  hands  the  aid  of  Providence ;  others  who,  armed 
with  large  jugs,  were  drinking  to  intoxication;  others  who 
laughed  fiercely,  or  rather  grinned ;  others  who  struck  each 
other,  and  yet  others  who  vainly  endeavored  to  pacify  them.  ' 

The  viscount,  ho^rifie^  at  this  spectacle,  imagined  he  had 
seen  a  cargo  of  the  damned.  His  face  grew  pale,  and  his 
eyes  filled  with  tears.  ,     ' 


.wcAjs-'Afe^  fef.fe,  i 


■''^■''"''''^^'^■'''ww^^FfW?'?^^  I^K" 


lai 


bistled  be- 
hree  other 

lera  climb- 
:?8  to  it,  in 
fed  pieces 
It  reached 
icended. 

the  foam 


ate!  Her 
igging  in 
i  terrible  * 


hese  men 
3ried  like 
ore  with 
o,  armed 
lers  who 
uck  each 
ify  them. 

d  he  had 
t  and  his 


-v«See!"  said  he,  handing  the  telescope  to  Philip  Fran- ' 
cceur. 

The  latter  examined  carefully,  but  his  countenance  con- 
tinued as  immovable  as  marble.   Stooping  to  the  ear  of  the  , 
viscount :  ~  ^v. 

"Not  a  \vord,  master,"  whispered  he,  putting  his  finger 

on  his  lips.     "They  ifust  have  revolted  on  board  of  the 

Erable,  and  made  themselves  masters;  but  if  it  bathe  will 

of  God  that  they  land  here,  wo  can  mAe  their  h^ds  pay 

for  it,  provided  that  our  people  suspect  nothing." 

"Does  anybody  direct  the  vessel?"  asked  the  Burgun- 
dian. 

"I  distingyish  nobody;  however,  there  may  be  a  pilot  at 
the  helm;  for  the  bark  does^  not  roll  very  much.  I  am 
going  to  arrange  a  signal."  ' 

But  as  he  pushed  this  remark,  »  gust  of  wind,  as  sudden 
^  as  it  was  forfnidable,  broke  in  two  the  mast,  at  the  top  of 
which  he  had  established  his  telegraphic  materials.       . 
"  No  chance,  by  the  trident  of  M|bune !" 
"  What  a  clatter !"  added  GrosbS/ 
The  EraJ)le  approached  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  shore. 
The  night  began  to  fall,  and  while  one  distinctly  per- 
ceived the  disabled  hull,  a  monstrous  wave  bore  ^v  over 
the  mouth  of  an  abyss  to  another  wave;  anon  she  is  pre- 
cipitated  into  a  deep  gorge,  pressed  by  sweUinga  of  the 
sea  which  seemed  bent  on  her  45struction 

"Can  we  render  them  no  assistance?"  ventured  the  vis- 
count  with  a  melancholy  apprehension. 

"The  weather-side!  the  .weather-side!"  shouted  Malifi- 
cieux,  putting  his  hands  before  his  lips  as  a  speaking  tube. 


/ 


;?*•?*•  "■»»'f7.*^:':: 


■*? 


^ 


184 


«*■ 


V* 


•Ifothing  was  hen^d  from  the  sTiip.  * 

A  gigantic  wave'stnick  her  prow  on  the  larboard  side, 
and,  almost  at  the  eamo  instant,  a  mournful  cracking  was 
hc^rd,  which  told  that  the  ressel  had  stcack  on  a  aand-^ 
.  bank. 

An  afwful  cry  of  savage  energy  struggled  with  the  crieK 
of;  the  tempest;  at  the  surface  of  the  water  were  to  be  seen 
unfortunates  whom  the  ocean  tore  iagainst  the  rocks,  as  if 
for  amusement,  until  the  darkness  covered  with  its  veil  the ' 
death  Struggle  of  the  Erable.        '  •      ,  '' 


^ 


-^' 


T'^ 


,J 


W-- 

I 

■      ^ 

♦■ 

^K^*--""  > 

'.- 

.^ 

•. 

^ 

jt    . 

' 

f 

, 

— 1 

^^l^'^»ii?2i^^l^i^Jij'v  ' 

aa^;,  ■„.■'■./ 

2^M 

kMi^A' 

'M 

.^ 


.,'J 


J 


•d  side, 
ng  was 
a  aand-^ 


K 


le  cries 
>e  Been 
s,  as  if 
eil  the ' 


^ 


r^ 


V    .  ^ 


CHAPTER  VIL 


THK     ^V^RECICv 


^. 


The  sun,  beautiful  ai^/^adiant,  raising  its  golden  globe 
fiom  the  waves  of  the  Atlantic,  illuminated  on  the  Isle  <j^^ 
Sable  a  still  more  desolate  spectacle  than  that-of  the  previ- 
ous evening,,  displaying  all  the  horrible  features  of  tho  „ 
denouement. 

The  air  was  fresh,  and  perfumed  with  penetrating  exhal- 
.  JHibns.  Above  •  the  sea  or  land  not  the  smallest  clouJ' 
floated — not  the  lightest  fog.  The  sky,  blue  as  the  iris, 
arid  trj^parent  as  a  mirror,  formed  an  arch  like  that  of  an 
immense  dome,  whose  transparent  limpidity  reflected  its 
splendor  and  brilliaricy.  The  shrubs,  ruffled  by  tKe  tem- 
.  pesjt,  rearranged  themselves  with  the  first  kisses  of  the  sun, 
their  leaves,  wet  With  the  dew,  sparkled  like  eriieil'alds  j  and 


'.-^M 


♦■ 

a  f^w  small  birds,  concealed  in  the  brushwood,  saluted  me^       * 

■'   ■■lll-,,  Jfll  ' 

iii*fc%»^iii»^^ 

Ip^i^^^fTv" 


«*. 


186 

lodiously  with  their  melodfJes  the  promise  of  a  beautiful 
d^y.    What  a  difFerence  between  the  rising  of  that  sun, 
and  the  setting  of  that  which  it  succeeded  I     Yesterday, 
the  elements  raged  against  themselves,  as  if  they  had/ 
wished  to  replunge  themselves  jnto .  chaos ;  this  morning 
they  smiled  with  their  most  harmonious  smile,  rivalling  in 
attractions, \^n  coquetry,  pressing  themselves .  amorously  in- 
to each  other's  arms,  like  a  newly  married  couple  awaken- 
ing, for  t^  first  time  in  the  nuptial  couch  I 
*■ 
But  there  remained  sinister  traces  of  their  passed  wrath 
— traces  all  the  more  sad,  because  in  proportion  as  the 
weather  is  delightful,  and  Nature  is  adorned  with  her  gay- 
est colors ;  for  beauty  and  gayety  grieve  the  heart  of  man 
more  when  chagrin  has  distilled  into  them  some  drops  of 
her  poison. 

Behold  the  beach  on  the  Isle  of  Sable,  near  the  camp  of 
the  convicts.  The  tents  are  torn  down,  or  dispersed ;  a 
mountain  of  sand  has  risen  wherQ  a  ditch  had  been  dug, 
and  a  ditch  had  been  formed  at  the  place  from  which  the 
mountain  had  risen ;  the  soil  is  scored  with  winds;  trees 
are  broken,  split  as  if  by  lightning,  uncrowned  or  uprooted, 
exhibited  everywhere  their  wounds. 

,  But  a  very  different  scene  on  the  beach  recalled  but  too 
'eloquently  the  storm  of  Sunday. 

In  the  midst  of  innumerable  fragments  of  the  shipwreck, 
are  groups  o*f  human  bodies.  All,  with  rare  exceptions, 
wore  the  same  uniform  as 'the  convicts  on  the  island ;  and 
the  greater  part  are  cruelly  mutilated.    One  seemed  as  if 


■  t'- 


187  • 

he  had  been  beheaded ;  another  as  if  his  limbs  had  been 
cut  off;  a  third  as  if  his  body  had  been  lacerated  with  sharp 
pebbles ;  in  shorten  seemed  as  if  they  had  been  disfigured 
on  purpose. 

They  were  huddled  pell  mell  with  chests,  barrels,  frag- 
ments  of  sail,  yards,  or  spars,  and  as  the  sd^etired,  it  left 
behind  it  nqw  victims  of  its  wrafh.  These  bodies,  boxes, 
and  barrels,  it  is  almost  needless  to  say,  came  from  the 
Erable,  whose  hull  was  still  visible,  ensconced  between  two 
roclvs,  at  about  a  hundred  perches  from  the  shore.  It  was 
all  that  remained  of  the  poor  ship,  lately  so  spruce  under 
her  light  rigging.  No  living  being  escaped  the  catastrophe 
which  had  engulphed  her ;  none  to  relate  the  drama  which 
preceded,  and  no  doubt  preceded  her  last  moments ;  for  it 
was  in  vain  the  companions  of  John  de  Ganay  passed  the 
whole  night  on  foot,  and  lit  fires  along  the  shore;  the  vio- 
lence of  the  tide  rendered  all  efforts  at  saving  fruitless. 
Then,  when,  towards  one  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the  ocean 
reposed  from  its  fury  as  from  lassitude,  when  its  surface 
was  levelled,  its  huge  inequalities— vomited  by  the  sea,  the 
fragments  of  the  wreck,  men  and  things,  from  the  Erable, 
are  drawn  to  the  beach  of  the  Isle  of  Sable. 

UnfoEtunates !  to  die  so  far  from  their  country,  in  the 
prime  of  life,  and  such  a  death !  But  at  least  they  had 
Christian  burial ;  for  the  new  islanders  had  already  opened 
a  deep  ditch  in  the  bosom  of  the  earth;  and  with  tears  in 
their  eyes,  and  prayers  on  their  lips,  they  piously  disposed 
those  who  were  to  have  shared  for  ever  their  good  or  bad 
fortune. 


c 


->%. 


,  ^'i- 


188 


«^i 


Heart-rending  obsequies  these  were  I  One  sobbed,  ano- 
ther  tried  to  distinguish  the  features  of  a  friend  in  the  cold, 
inert,  and  lacerated  body;  and  at  the  same  tmie  removed 
from  him  his  miserable  convict  dress. 

John  de  Ganay  presided  at  the  funerals.  His  counte-' 
nance  was  pale,  his  eyes  were  red  and  dry.  He  did  not 
weep;  but  what  efforts  he  made  to  suppress  the  burning 
tears  I^  Sensibility  would  have  been  weakness  under  such 
circumstances?  he  knew  tliis,  and  imposed  saence  on  the 
emotions  which  wrung  his  heart. 

"Come,  friends,"  said  he,  "let  us  hasten  to  accomplish, 
this  melancholy  duty,  and  let  us  avail  ourselves  of  the  low 
tide,  in  order  to  secure  such  objects  as  high  tide  has 
brought  us.    Philip !-' 


Malificieux  approached  him  respectfully. 


"Has  the  body  of  the  captain,  or  of  any  of  the  officers 
been  found  ?" 

"No,  sir,"  replied  the  sailor,  bowing. 

"Do  you  think  «ey  have  escaped  from  the  wreck?" 

"Escaped  the  wreck,  master!"  exclaimed  Philip,  with 
surprise,  which  was  equivalent  to  the  most  energetic  nega- 
tive. 

"  It  is  singular,  however,"  murmured  the  viscount,  "that 
the  waves  have  cast  up  the  remains  of  most  of  the  convicts 
who  were  on  board  the  Erable,  without  as  much  as  one  of 
the  crew.    It  is  singular!" 


jcA^K''  rftiv-fr.^'*-»v 


-jffp  r-    y  <^- 


;,  "that 
ODvicts        ;i 
one  of 


/  189 

"Let  ns  not  accuse  those  who  are  no  more,"  said  Ualii 
ficeux,  man  undertone;  "but  I  have  seen  what  I  have 
Been.    We  shaU  soon  have  low  tide,  if  I  mistake  not;  and 
then,  If  you  wish,  we  can  clear  up  this  mystery" 

"How  is  that  P'*. 

The  sailor  indicated  with  his  finger  the  red  line  traced 
by  the  Erable  in  the  surface  of  the  Atkntic. 
"WeU,?"  -        "^ 

"I  wiU  undertake  to  go  with  a  raft;  and  if  tlio  walla 
don  t  speak,  perliaps  the  planks  would." 

"1  understand,"  rephed  the  equerry,  thoughtfuUy. 

The  burial  being  terminated,  the  convicts  knelt  on  the 
bnnk  of  the  ditch,  and  the  ex-musketeer  h,toned  the  pray, 
ers  for  the  dead,  the  remainder  of  the  band  making  the  re- 
^pon^^wahout  noticing  that  the  viscount  did  not  knee. 

^After  this  sad  office,  sjjemn  even  from  its  simplicity,  a 
^c^den  cross  was  planted  tempora,%  at  the  head  of  tho 

TWs  work  was  superintended  by  the  three  sailors,  and  a 
guard,  composed  x^,re  men,  had  the  mission  of  seeing 
that  none  of  the  various  a,ticles  scattered  about  would  1^ 
removed. 

The  viscount  had  rightly  deemed  it  necessary  to  take 
these  precaution,,  in  order  to  prevent  the  uilfering  of  pi 
cous  effects,  and  to  prevent  quarrels  and^  „f  ^£,^  ^^e 


!(    \,i 


it^ALt  ^WliR  if '.> 


190 


convicts  were  under  the  influence  of  a  deep  melancholy; 
but  by  degrees  their  light  and  jovial  nature  resumed  its 
wonted  hilarity,  and  they  commenced  a  characteristic  dia- 
logue. 


I 


i  .£. 


4./  V  »  , 


l*(i6U5>..vi^V    .\j„._,. 


CHAPTER  Vm. 


Br  unexpected  good  luck,  a  large  quantity  of  carpenter's 
and  smith's  tools  were  found  among  the  articles  saved  from 
the  wreck.  An  inventory  of  these  articles  brought  also 
the  discovery  of  several  weapons,  and  many  barrels  con- 
tainmg  seeds  and  grains  of  various  kinds. 

Malificieux  commenced  immediately  to  construct  a  raft 
with  which  he  proposed  to  con<fuct  John  de  Ganay  to  the 
wrecked  vessel.  The  raft  being  finished  tolerably,  the  two 
launched  it,  and  the  viscount  having  charged  the  three 
sailors  to  be  careful  in  his  absence,  they  embarked  and 
steered  towards  the  wreck. 

_   In  ten  minutes  the  viscount  and  Malificieux  reached  it 
m  safety. 

It  waa  with  profound  regret  that  the  former  approached 
the  ship,  where  he  had  seen  embark  and  perish  so  many 
brave  men,  among  whom,  at  the  tune  of  saUing,  were  in- 


% 


1^2 

eluded  several  scions  of  the  most  illustrious  families  in 
France.  But  when,  after -having  attachecUheir  raft  at  the 
starboard  side  of  the  Erable,  they  commenced  to  climb  up 
on  the  deck,  the  equerry  Vas  SQCJi|uch  affected  that  he  was 
obliged  to  have  recourse  to  tho'aid  of  the  sailor  to  suc- 
ceed. 

Philip  FranccDur  himself,  hardened  as  he  was  by  a  long 
^     life  of  perils,  shed  tears  in  setting  his  foot  on  the  quartext 
deck.  . 

^    «  Poor  devUs  I"  he  said,  « they  have  paid  dearly  for  their 
revolt." 

«  What  do  you  say  ?"  asked  the  viscount.  / 

"Alas!  sir,  the  suspicions  which  I  conceived  yesterday 
evening  are  confi,-mcd.  There  has  been  an  emeute  on 
board;  and  probably  it  is  to  this  we  are  to  attribute  the 
loss  of  the  Erable— See!" 

In  pronouncing  this  word,  Malificienx  extended  his  hand, 
and  indicated  with  the  finger  to  John  de  Ganay  the  body 
of  a  man  fastened  with  iron  pins  to  the  forecastle. 

"The  captain!"  exclaimed  John  de  Ganay,  recognizing 
the  uniform  on  the  body.  '     ^ 

"Yes,"  said  Philip,  in  a  tone  of  efnotion,  « the  scoundrels 
have  assassinated  him." 

"  Poor  captain !"  resumed  the  viscount.   «  But  great  God 
what  lias  hai>pened  ?"  ' 

♦"ftiere  has  been  a  revolt,"  replied  the  sailor;  "the  rebels 
were  the  strongest;  they  killed  the  officers,  garrdted  the 
commander,  and  abandoned  the  vessel  to  the  mercy  of  the 
Ocean."  ^ 


'i:*!.':^'i. 


-■■  f 


193 

of  the  traces  of  the  revolt  i,  Z  ,  "'S'  P*"^ 

We  been  horriMe.     TiZ:ZT7  ^T  "''  *"  "  "■-" 

verity.    Whirh  n/^  ^'^^^  ^^^^  P^ons  s^ 

«oy  Of  the  officere  who  were  on  boardP         .  ^ 


■^■ 


104 


Us 


r 


The  convicts  either  shut  them  up  in  the  hold,  or  threw 
them  into  the  eea. 

At  this  moment  the  timbers  of  the  vessel  shook  from 
stem  to  stern. , 

"Let  us  hasten,  master  J"  exclaimed  Malificieux. 

"  Hasten  r  \ 

"Yes,  the  Erable  threatens ^p  fall  astmder altogether. 

"  Let  us  leave,  then,  for  J  see  nothing  here — ** 

"  In  th6  captain's  apartment  perhaps — ^* 

"  You  are  right." 

John  made  his  way  throijgh  a  mass  of  rags,  but  onlj 
went  a  short  distance,  where  he  saw  at  a  glance  that  there 
was  -"nothing  there,  but  a  broken  trunk.  He  was  going  to 
leave,  when  the  sailor  who  had  observed  the  trunk,  called 
him,  telling  him  that  it  inclosed  a  small  chest,  and  plunging 
in  his  hand,  he  took  out  a  coffer  which  he  put.into  the 
hands  of  the  viscount.  The  latter  took  it,  examined  it  with 
a  sort  of  curious  satisfaction,  and  said  to  Philip : 

"  Without  doubt,  the  steerage  is  entirely  submerged." . 

"  Entirely,  master,  even  to  the  wing-transoms." 
'  "Then  let  us  ^o  on  shore,  and  take  the  body  of  the  cap- 
tain with  us.    It  is  my  wish  that  he  receives  funeral  hon- 


n 


ors. 

Philip  FranccBur  carried  to  excess  the  sentiment  of  obe- 
dience to  his  chie&.  Although  he  did  not  relish  the  idea  of 
burying  the  captain  elsewhere  than  from  the  deck  of  the 
Erable,  he  abstained  from  making  any  remark,  and,  seizing 
a  sabre,  he  cut  the  cords  that  fksteded  the  corpse  to  the 
rigging.    He  then  knelt  down,  put  it  on  his  shoulders,  and 


r;  »■■  ■  ■   •;,■>,  -.  -;.  •'",■■■/■    -  ""  -  ■ 


19C 

said  to  the  viscount  who  saw  him  do  so,  Vith  his  arms 
crossed,  and  his  head  inchned  nioumfi41y  on  Lis  breast : 

"  Now,  if  you  will  deign  to  believe  me,  i&aster,  we 
should  not  remain  here  one  minute  longer.  Do  you  hear 
that  crackling  in  the  interior  of  the  vessel  ?" 

The  advice  came  in  good  time.  Shattered  by  the  terrible 
shocks  she  had  received,  and  incapable  of  longei^  resistance, 
the  keel  of  the  Erable  was  disjointed  by  the  retummg  tid?, 
and  ah-eady  the  water  had  rushed  in  with  a  crash. 

John  de  Ganay  went  onUhe  raft  with  a  bound.  Not- 
withstanding the  weight  of  his  load,  Malificieux  made  an 
effort  to  leap  also ;  but  whether  he  had  miscalculated  the 
fiKstance,  or  whether  his,  load  was  too  heavy,  he  fell  into 
the  sea. 

The  viscount  gave  a  scream. 

"  Let  go  the  cable !  for  the  love  of  heaven,  let  go  the 
cable,  master  I"  said  the  sailor,  re-appearing  on  the  surface. 

The  equerry  obeyed  mechanically,  and  almost  imme- 
diately the  hull  of  the  wrecked  vessel  broke  into  a  multi- 
tude of  fragments  which  became  the  sport  of  the  waves. 

Philip  FrancoBur  still  clung  to  the  body  of  the  captam. 
With  one  hand  he  dragged  it  along;  and  with  the  other  he 
swam  vigorously  towards  the  raft.    When  he  reached  it," 
he  caught  hold  of  one  of  the  pieces  of  wood  which  com- 
posed it,  and  tried  to  place  himself  astride  on  it  with  his 

I,  but  this  was  out  of  his  power.  ^t 

"  Abandon  the  body !"  said  John  de  Ganay.    ^^ 


.  \ 


r- 


«, 


Vi.. 


t 


ft£>ds^^si»f^^^1^  VJK,^I^J^^'i.'J^>j^&;A<'£. 


it 


/  196 

/ 

The  sailor  allowed  the  inoft  mass  to  go,  which  floated 
for  a  few  seconds,  and  then  disappeared  in  the  abyss. 

*  *  *  '     *  * 

The  sun,  like  an  immense  blazing  furnace,  illuminated 
the  confines  of  the  horizon,  and  embraced  with  red  tenta 
the  plains  of  the  Isle  of  Sabre,  when  John  do  Ganay  and 
Malificieux  rejomed  their  companions  who  awaited  them 
impatiently  along  the  shore. 


I    ' 


If 


■r 


4 


V 


CHAPTER  IX. 


THE     C  O  I"  B'  E  R. 


In  the  mean  time  the  coaVicts  had  not  remained  inactive. 
Directed  by  the  three  sailors,  they  had  repaired  their  tents, 
and  constructed  a  sort  of  pavillion  for  John  de  Ganay ;  a 
coarse  one,  it  is  true,  but  very  comfortable,  considering  the 
circumstances.,  Johti  thanked  them  heartily  for  this  atten- 
tion which  he  had  not  expedted. 

After  supping  in  common,  our  hero  retired  into  his  new 
lodging,  followed  by  Malificieux,  whom  he  rega;rded  hence- 
forth rather  as  a  friend,  than  asia  vassal. 

Misfortune  has  ttis  one  good  quality  that  it  brings  to- 
gether the  most  opposite  characters,  equalizes  the  most  di- 
verse conditions,  and  levels  the  most  distinct  classes.  In 
proportion  as  riches  and  happiness  form  lines  of  demarca- 
tioii  between  individuals,  misery  and  misfortime  have  a 
tendency  to  cover  the  abyss  which  separates  them.  "Grief," 
says  the  Abb^  Constant,  "is  the  fatigue  of  humanity  in  its. 
progress."    Tliis  profound  and  just  opinion  confirms  those 


'f. 


tr.. 


^    ^' 


-:  ^  - 


198 

(I 

we  just  expt^fessed.    In  order  that  humanity  may  march 
rapidly  in  the  road  to  perfefttion,  it  is  necessary  to  destroy 
secular  prejudices,  to  extinguish  the  firebrand  of  hatred, 
lighted  by  the  division  of  castes,  to  write  in  one  harmonious 
whole  all  the  scattered  fragments  of  a  community,  and 
e^juapojse  their  forces ;  and  for  this  purpose  it  is  necessary 
that  the  mqitnbers  of  that  society  suffer ;  that  the  best  pro- 
vided  may  have  need  (if  those  who  are  called  the  disinherit- 
ed.   Tl^o  latter  ctLn  rarely  elevate  themselves  at  a  boimd ; 
but  the  former  can  always  dpscend.     Generally  the  moral 
faculties  ^e  more  developed  in  the  oUe  than  in  the  others, 
—their  sensibility  is  greater.    When  thejL-jlifrer  from  an 
evil,  they  suffer  doubly  in  comparison  witb^others;   TTiis  is 
the  reason  they  call  thera,  or  go  to  them ;  for  we  always 
«eek  toridourselvesoftheburdens  of  our  afflictions  on  those 
who  seem  to  jyi,  stronger  to  bear  them  than  ourselves,  and 
even  to  prop  them  up  with  the  indifference  of  otketB. 

Overwhtil«|i<Bd  with  fatigue,  Philip  FranCoeur  immediately 
entered  the'^villion  extended  himself  in  a  corner,  and  fell 
asleep.  The  viscount,  too,  was  tired  j  but  his  wind,  excited 
by  the  various  ejnotions  which  he  had  expelillnced  for  the 
last  tt((o  days,  did  not  allow  him  to  commit  his  body  im- 
mediately to  repose.  •  • 

Malificieuxt^Utinued  to  iSleep  soundly.  'In  pausing  to 
contemplate  ftlsWn^^d  qpen  countenance,  which  reflected 
a  tranquil  min^^^Mgferc«^M  thd^^asket  which  he  had 
brought  from  tl^^Hei^  plac^^der  the  tent  on  his 
ai-rival.^  As  muj^^^iosity  as  tWfvert  his  melancholy, 
he .  took  the  casket,  apj^roached  a  torch,  and  began  tq  ex- 
amuie  it.  It  was  simply  a  box  of  violet  ebony,  cliased  with 


..1 


199 

Bflver,andjj|&i^^  cLiaeled  in  relief,  and  in- 

j»i^li|ii,  belonged  to  the  captain  of  the  Erable,  M. 
ftoSk,"  murmured  the  viscount  at  the  gfght  of  the 
re  "whi^h  ^surmounted  the  coronet  of  a  count.  "  It  ia 
very  light  I  What  can  it  contain?"  added  l](o,  poising  the 
object  in  his  hand ;  "  some  papers,  doubtless.  Perhape  I 
may  find  in  them  some  account  cot  the  first  acts  of  the 
drama.  *  *  Upon  the  other  hand,  if  it  contains  anytliing 
private,  I  will  bum  it,  or  I  will  preserve  the  Whole,  in  oi;der 
tCN^resent  it  tc^his  family,  if  ever  — — " 

A  long  sigh  terminated  the  phrase  of  the  young  man  j 
he  resumed  after  some  moments  of  hesitation. 

"Yes,  my  duty  is  to  open  the  coffer;  neither  honor  nor 
delicacy -wjjl  be  offended  at  my  doing  so." 

But  the  qpiening  of  the  casket  was  no  easy  matter.    The^ 
viscount  had  only  his  trouble  for  his  pams,  when  the  noise  he 
made  in  trying  to  force  thelock  wakened  Philip  Francoeur. 
Divining  at  the  first  glance  the  intention  of  the  viscount, 


"  Pardon,  master ;  but  if  you  will  confide  thiri)ox  to  me, 
I  think  I  know  the  secret  of  opening  it." 

*' Youj  Philip !  how  is  that?"  asked  he  smiling. 

"  Yes,  I  understand  lock-smithing.  My  father  was  a  lock- 
smith, and  when  I  was  young— ^a  good  while  since — ^he 
made  m©  practice  at  the  trade." 

"  Try  then,  but  I  fear  you  will  not  succeed,"  said  John 
de  Grftnaj,  handing  him  the  casket.  ,   ^        , 


1^ 


,     .,,i^^1i'M 


^ 


.!>   '     ij 


■"     ''■■",», 


«ti 


-'5?'  -r 


'''<'''^  ,■ 


'^'^f^.^!-':^,!;! 


•.Hi- 


.'c'*- 


;'^';#-^., 


^ 


'i  ■* 


>      ?* 


fe 


;  Is- 

:    !■-■ 

i: 


I'  ?5-, 


^t. 


te 


.->■ 


« 


.200 

Malificieux  took  it^  examined  it  attentively,  turned  it 
at)Out  in  his  fingers  for  nearly  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  and  al- 
ready the  equerry  had  begun  to  laugh  at  his  vain  efibrts, 
.  when  suddenly  Philip  exclaimed  with  joy 
j«  Ah  k  J  have  found  it  I"J 

"Indeed!"  exclaimed  John  de  Ganay,  in  a  half  incredulous 
tona 

"  Wait,  master,"  replied  Francoeur  triufhjph^ntly. 

"  Let  us  see,"  said  the  former,  approaching  the  sailor, 
who,  by  dint  of  fingering,  at  last  found  a  small,  almost  in- 
perceptible  button  in  the  middle  of  the  chasing,  and  pressed 
it  with  his  thumb. 

"Well ?"  asked  John. 

**  Well,  I  have  found  itJ  Here  is  your  casket  opened." 
At  the  same  momeiit  tie  lid,  disengaged  by  an  internal 
Spring,  suddenly  rose. 

V  "  Give  it  to  me  1"  sa^d  the  viscount  in  an  excited  tone. 

Francis  handed  him  the  dasket,  and  discreetly  withdrew 
a  few  steps.  \  -^  • 

John  de  Ganay  ran  to  the  ta/ble,  and  looked  into  the  cof- 
fer. First  he  only  found  some /yellow  papers,  which  he 
took  out.  They  were  parchments ;  then  some  letters  which 
must  have  been  read  and  re-read  many  a  time,  judging  from 
the  folds  and  the  spots  with  which  they  were  stained.  The 
viscount  asked  himself,  if  he  would  read  them  in  turn.  He 
hesitated ;  but  the  address  of  one  of  them  attracted  his  at- 
tention, in  reminding  him  of  the  name  ofthe  D%  la  Roche 
family,  into   which  he  was  to  enter.      Overcoming  his 


:1  <?,•>,•  A,,! 


.<Wiku    ^i^S^± 


■v.- 


•  -  -IJ  *t*  . 


turned  it 
ir,  and  al- 
in  efforts, 


credulous 


he  sailor, 
ilmost  in- 
d  pressed 


lened." 
i  internal 

3  tone, 
vithdrew 

5  the  cot 
[vhich  he 
srs  which 
fing  from 
led.  The 
urn.  He 
3d  his  at- 
la  Roche 
ning  his 
i  over -it 


201 

with  feverish  avidity,  then  devoured  all  the  rest  in  a  similar 
manner.  From  his  demeanor,  and  the  exclamations  which 
escaped  him  from  time  to  time,  it  was  easy  to  see  that 
hfi  was  surprised  to  stupefaction. 

After  he  had  finished,  he  paced  rapidly  up  and  down  his 
chamber,  thfen  he  returned  to  the  coffer,  plunged-his  hand 
into  it,  as  if  to  search  for  other  papers,  and  took  out  a  me- 
dallion, richly  mounted  with  gold  and  precious  stones. 
This  medallion  contained  a  portrait.  Scarcely  had  he  seen 
the  latter,  when  he  exclaimed : 

*'  How  beautiful  she  is  I"  • 

In  a  moment  after,  he  added,  with  emotion : 

"  Poor  Guyonne  de  la  Roche!  so  noble,  so  charming,  so 
imfortunate !" 

It  was  undoubtedly  a  beautiful  and  noble  woman  he  had 
before  his  eyes.  Of  majestic  form,  she  had  that  dignified 
and  imposing  air  peculiar  to  the  old  families.  Her  features 
were  well  defined,  but  of  graceful  outline.  Her  black  hair, 
blue  eyes,  and  the  melancholy  expression  of  her  mouth, 
imparted  to  her  physiognomy  a  sympathetic  character. 
Dressed  in  the  fashion  of  the  time  of  Charles  IX.,  she  wore 
a  robe  of  figured  taffeta,  with  strawberry  lace,  and  velvet 
hood.  All  about  her  respked  elegance  imited  to  simplicity, 
sadness,  and  resignation. 

Under  the  portrait  was  engraved  the  date,  1573. 

John  de  Ganay  contemplated  her  for  a  long  time.  He 
seemed  as  if  he  could  not  withdraw  himself  from  that  pio- 
ture._  By  times  he  slapped  iiia  face ;  and  seemed  to^yAa  , 


collect  fugitive  and  vague  aouvenirSf  and  murmured : 


[4vi,.^  vii-.Ck'-.A.tki.iLf « > 


s^^l^^^^^^^^S^-- 


^. 


#v 


fe 


ff' 


'^2 

"It  b  strange  I  I  know  some  one,  -tho,  if  I  don't  mis- 
take, greatly  resembles  this  person.  It  is  not  the  mother 
of  Lam-a  de  Kerskoen ;  no,  she  was  more  slender,  morer 

delicate.    Who  is  it,  then  ?    But  where— where ?" 

Resuming  the  portrait,  he  examined  it  again  with  re- 
doubled attention,  buried  his  face  in  his  hands  to  reflect, 
and  inadvertently  let  the  medallion  fall. 

Philip,  who  observed  him  silently,  hastened  to  pick  up 
the  object,  upon  which,  in  presenting  it  to  the  viscouut,  he 
cast  a  glance,  which  elicited  fjrom  him  an  exclamation. 

"Is  she  not  very  beautiful?"  said  the  latter,  responding 
to  his  own  thoughts. 

"  Good  master,  but  one  would  almost  say  that  it  is 
Tvon,"  replied  the  sailor. 

"Yvon!  that  exile.    Ah  I  I  know  I'*   rejoined  John  de 
Ganay,  like  a  man  who  had  found  the  thread  of  an  idea, 
vainly  sought  for  a  long  time. 
"Is  it  not,  master?" 

"  Yes,  in  fact,  there  is  a  resemblance — a  striking  resem- 
blance. It  is  truly  extraordinary.  The  more  I  look  at  it, 
the  more  I  am  persuaded — It  seems  as  if  this  lady  was  his 
mother ;  and  that  young  man  was  a  female " 

"  And  why  not,  master  ?"  said  the  sailor,  with  a  knowing 
look. 

"What  do  you  say,  PhUip?" 

"  Eh,  master,  I  can  smfeU  well ;  and  I  will  wager  ten 
years  of  my  U£e  against  nothing,  that  our  Yvon  would 
make  a  finer  figure'under  a  bonnet  than  under  a  helmet." 

"Ah,  bah!  foolish  dream  of  my  imagination,"  exclaimed 


"^irvlickltunt,  ma££ig  a  sign  to  Philip  to  go  toiwd. 


.,u^^-^&'  >^M 


'  '*-^'^>V*^ 


'^h'%!  '^^'s'J'' 


*   ■: 


203 

Tlie  latter  stretched  on  his  bed,  and  was  soon  fast 
asleep.  " 

John  de  Ganay  would  gladly  have  imitated  him,  but  in 
spite  of  himself  he  was  the  prey  of  a  thousand  preoccupa- 
tions, and  he  could  not  close  eyes  durmg  the  rest  of  the 


V  »!>(»■ 


h 


w&^m^^ 


>.     .^ft     ^^L 


&^##&i;j^l 


"^tA^ 


<!itfSN"T 


CHAPTER  X. 


MYSTE3RIOTJS, 


The  sleepless  nights,  added  to  incessant  fatl^6s,  moral 
and  physical,  undergone  since  his  disembarkation  ob  the 
Isle  of  Sable,  had  considerably  subdued  John  de  Ganay. 
Sleep  claimed  its  rights  imperiously.  Kevertheless,  sinije 
the  perusal  of  the  papers  .found  in  the  coffer,  the  young 
man's  mind  was  agitated  with  so  exciting  an  idea,  that,  r<;- 
pressing  the  desires  of  nature,  he  awoke  Malificieux  at  sun- 
rise, and  said : 

"Philip,  I  think  we  had  better  resume  our  explorations. 
Although  the  wreck  of  the  Erable  has  furnished  us  some 
provisions,  it  would  be  imprudent  to  tonsurae  them  before 
we  can  feel  assured  of  being  able  to  procure  others.  The 
sea-shore  is  not  suited  for  cultivation.  You,  as  well  as  I, 
have  doubtless  remarked  that  the  shores  of  the  lake  where 
^wehave^^r^djL been  appear  iertile.    It  would  be  desife^ 


^'^I- 

•'''* 

^ 


205 

able,  therefore,  in  my  opinion,  to  return  there  as  soon  as 
we  can,  and  try  to  cultivate  a  part.     What  think  you  ?" 

"Your  opmion,  master,  seems  judicious.  So  far  as  I 
have  been  able  to  see,  game  does  not  abound  on  the  island, 
as  that  Satanic  pretended ^" 

Interrupted  by  a  grave  look  of  the  equerry,  he  re- 
sumed ; 

"I  mean  the  pilot  Chedotel.  Well,  master,»I  may  be 
mistaken,  but  this  devil  of  a  mariner " 

Another  expressive  look  made  him  pause.       t 

"  Come  on,"  said  the  viscount,  curtly, 

"In  short,"  contmued  Philip  Francoeur,  obstinately, 
"this  Chedotel  had  always  seemed  to  me  like  a  lynx. 

Yes,  indeed,  by^ 1  To  return  to  the  affair  in  question,  I 

see  it,  master,  in  the  same  light  you  do.  There  are  more 
ravens  here  than  partridges,  and  more  sand  than  hares, 
and  the  fish  will  not  last  long." 

"  Then  it  is  best  to  set  to  work  as  soon  as  possible. 
Here,  the  same  as  in  New  France,  the  season  will  not 
wait." 

"  This  is  my  plan,*'  said  John,  «  We  will  leave  ten  men 
here;  they  will  be  directed  to  finish  the  tents,  to  prepare 
food,  and  to  watch  the  camp.  With  the  others,  I  will  com, 
mence  the  work." 

"But  the  instruments?"  objected  Philip. 
"Instruments,  that's  true!"  repUed  the  viscount,  strik- 
ing    his    forehead;    "instruments!    ve   have   none— at 


15^5^1 


.,^C- 


,  ^6 

A  glance  of  hope  lit  np  his  countenance. 
"Call  Pierre  1"  *        • 

Pierre  was  one  of  the  three  sailors,  (Ordered  to  guard  tte 
chests  left. by  the  tide  on  the  be&ch  after  the  sinking  of  the 
i^able,  and  smce  removed,  as  we  have  said,  to  the  camp 
of  the  convicts.    He  ran. 

He  was  a  man  of  niiddle  size,  of  a  downcast  and  sullen 
countenance — one  of  those  beings  who  must  have  inspired 
Shakespeare  with  histypeof  Caliban— a  surname  with  which 
he  vfaa  decorated.      .-  '  •       " 

"What  do  those  chests  contam?"  asked  John  de  Ga- 

nay.  ^  N 

"Some  flour  and  some  damaged  grain.'* 

'"  *' Are  there  not  also  some  instruments?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  carpenter's  tools.**  • 

"Is  that  all?" 

•'  Some  shovels  and  pickaxes.'* 

"  Ah !"  exclaimed  the  equerry,  as  if  relieved  from  a  heavy 
burden. 

One  chest  contained  arms,  and  t^o  barrels  of  powder. 
But  Caliban  was  very  careful  to  say  nothing  about  this  to 
the  viscount.  He  had  hidden  with  his  own  hands  during 
the  preceding  night,  unknown  to  aU  his  companions,  the 
chest  of  arms,  and  one  of  the  barrels  of  powder. 

Caliban  had 


(( 


L  his  design. 
^ry  weJljf^  said ^e  equerry,  "you  can  wtAdraw. 


I 


i-xf.\f'W^:$^''P, 


207  \ 

The  sailor  saluted  humbly,  and  retired,  ^ving  a  stealthy 

look  of  malicious  jealousy  at  the  viscount.    \ 

\ 
"Heaven  may  grant  my  prayers!"  murmured  the  equer- 
ry,  after  Caliban  left.  \ 

"Phaip!"  \ 

Malificieux  who  had  remained  standing,  approached*^ 


*\ 


"  You  wiU  remain  here,  and  in  my  absence  you  will  com^- 
mand.    Better  than  anybody  else  you  are  capable  of  ful- 
filling that  duty.    If  Providence  permits  the  Castor  to  re- 
turn, you  will  let  me  know  at  once.    I  have  confidence  in 
.  your  fidelity." 

FrancceUr  bowed. 

"Perhaps,"  continued  John,  "I  may  not  return  for  some 
days.  Send  me  a  courier  every  morning,  with  an  account 
of  the  situation;  I  will  transmit  you  my  orders  by 
him." 

Although  he  .was  sorry  that  he  could  not  accompany  the 
viscount  in  this"  enterprise,  he  replied : 

"Yes^  master." 

"And,"  still  added  the  Burgundian,  in  reminding  the 
sailor  of  the  coffer,  from  which  he  had  taken  the  papers,  - 
without  removing  the  portrait,  "  you  will  take  care  of  this 
casket ;  I  will  confide  it  to  you." 


■*^'   y 


■m 

m 


,im 


He  said  no  more,  but  the  tone  of  his  words,  and  the  em- 

^1 

u 

phasis  he  placed  on  them,  wefe  equivalent  to  an  iiijuno- 

^  «. 

1  i«>i..s«Ezr         1 

rM^I 

-Ik-  ' 


'5-^ 


<■-,' 


mkr  \ 


^   ^(rV    J    1* 


208 


"It  will  not  leave  me  night  or  day,''  replied  Malificieux, 
taking  off  his  hat.  ^ 

^' Thank  you,  Philip,"  exclaimed  the  viscount,  extending 
to  the  former  his  hand  which,  at  first,  he  did-not  dare  to 
touch,  brft  which  he  shook  warmly,  throwing  himself  on  his 
knees,  when  De  Ganay  said  : 

.     "What,  Philip,  do  you  refuse  to  give  me  a  token  of' 
fi'iendship  ?" 

The^preparations  for  the  expedition  were  promptly  made. 
Those*of  the  convicts  who  wfere  sick,  or  least  robust,  were 
left  at  the  camp;  and  the  rest,  armad.with  provisions,  agri- 
cultural  implements,  hatches,  and  pick-axes,  set  out  gayly 
on  their  march. 

John  de  Ganay  advanced  at  the  head  of  the  column,  with 
his  musket  on  his  shoulder. 

In  the  ranks  they  sang,  laughed,  and  chatted.  The  in- 
defatigable  N-abot  teased  his  good  friend  Biise-tout,  who 
swore,  raged,  and  threatened.  The  ex-trooper  attempted 
to  adapt  an  impossible  air  to  a  verse,  not  less  unpossible; 
in  short,  notwithstanding  the  gloominess  of  the  weather* 
which  was  cloudy  and  moist,  ^he  little  troop  seemed  ahnost 
satisfied  with  its  fate. 

John  de  Ganay  alone  did  not  participate  in  the  general/ 
loquacity.  He  reflected.  The  viscount  seemed  growing 
tired  of  life.  In  his  animated  eyes  there  was,  I  knoVnot 
what  that  ^as  mysterious,  like  the  titles  of  certain  books. 
Without- doubt,  John's  was  no  vulgar  mind.  ySingnlar  and 
critical  as  was  his  situation  in  the  midst  of  that  band  of 
^dissolute  and  furious  eoaviets,  he  had  shawn  no  weaknessr— 


i*A.'^ii  "w'^i^itei 


'■"ff'^vw^w^^WKm^^-^-^v^^  w<-- 


^4^^"''^^^:^ 


''■■r/fsf!ir< 


209 

It  was  natural,  however,  that  discouragement  should  relax 
his  energy,  and  d^en  his  countenance.  Why  then  did  a 
feverish  anxietiimpUrple  his  cheeks;  whence  this  fire  in 
his  eyes?  Why  does  he  look  about  so  eagerly  from  one 
side  to  another  ?  Why  are  his  steps  now  slow,  now  pre- 
cipitato  ?  What  is  the  reason  of  these  hurried  movements, 
this  uncertainty?  What  emotions  give  him  pain ?  What 
does  he  wish?    What  does  he  doubt ?— 


^^■^T  •!*!.      . 


.  '!>  "»<-1«JlU|uii(^ 


Lj^ 


.  ■^s^ '  J    jjtk  -^^ 


%ST'Y.-^A  iifS^fciui ; 


V  W   V-/i^ 


,   V 


,OfBiv?*>^'i>J».^'.'..W.-7-"r"-.  ^  . 


/ 


CHAPTER  XL 


I5ISCOVERY. 


Spddenxt,  the  ex-Iancer  interrupted  himself  in  the  mid- 
dle of  a  chromatic  gamut,  and  running  from  the  front  to 
the  rear  of  the  column : 

"Pardon,  monseigneur!"  said  he,  in  approaching  John 
de  Ganay. 

"What's  the  matter?"  asked  the  viscomit,  somewhat 
sharply,  feeling  annoyed  at  being  interrupted  in  his  rev- 
erie. 

"Look,  master,  ifyou  please,"  replied  Grosbecj  "there 
in  the  direction  of  my  finger."  ' 

The  troop  halted,  and  was  silent. 
"I  see  nothing,"  said  the  viscount. 

"He  has  hidden  behind  this  bush;  but  he  will  soon  re- 
appear.    Wait— now  do  you  see?" 


.''X>^\M^''-JlttlJ£^'i::>.%2^''^::.''^^^S;fS^^^ 


211 


«  WeU,»  gaid  John,  ordering  him  to  be  silent  by  a  ges- 
ture of  the  loft  hand,  while  with  the  right  he  seized  his 
musket.. 

At  a  distance  of  fifty  paces  an  animal  was  distinctly  ob- 
served  eating  grass. 

The  equerry  adjusted  his  gun  and  fired.    The  quadruped 
•  bounded  on  its  four  feet  with^  cry  of  pain,  and  fell  ou  the 
mossy  carpet.    It  was  dead. 

«  A  sheepi  it  is  a  sheep,"  exclaimed  one  of  the  convicts, 
triumphantly,  who  immediately  after  the  riiot  was  fired, 
rushed  forward  to  seize  the  game. 

Nor  was  het  mistaken  j  it,  was  a  sheep,  and  one  of  a  mag- 
,  nificent  breed. 

..  The  cry  of  joy  elicited  by  this  discovery  can  easily  be 
understood.  Never  were  spoUs  won  by  a  conqueror  more 
welcdmed  than  the  body  of  the  poor  member  ol^  the  ovine 
race.  \ 

Evidently  it  was  not  alone.  One  pretended  that  he  had 
seen  the  marks  of  a  large  flock ;  another  was  sure  that  he 
had  seen  several  running  through  the  bushes;  but  that 
fearing  to  lure  his  companions  with  a  false  hope,  he  said 
nothing  on  the  subject. 

John  de  Ganay  did  not  know  what  to  think;  although 
his  satisfaction  equaUed,  if  it  did  not  surpass,  the  wUd  joy 
of  his  subordinates.  A  painful  fear  had  ceased  to  corrode 
his  mind;  smce  the  island  contained  sheep,  they  were  no 
longer  in  danger  <rf  dying  of  hunger. : 7 


if'.?. 


*"ii 


«iJ»-*j^^)%.4../2A^  jJ^rfTiTI^X*      .^T'trt2t"j£\-.n.*j^„>a''^*!^^  i^«.,^    ^\  i.^ 


,1-Ji/S 


t% 


■f 


'r  "    t|    ',212         ^  .•  :■• 

"Forwardl"  said  tie  equerry.    "Let  oAeof  you  tak« 

charge  of  this  anuual;  let  it  be  skinned  and  roasted,  on  the  ' 
brink  of  the  lake."         .  •  -  ,   "  mu 

Then  he  reloaded  his  musket,  and  the  little  troop  re- 
Bumed  their' march.       ".  ^ 

By  thelTme  they  reached  their  journey's  end,  the  sun 
haddisengagedxtself  from  the  humid  vapors  which  had 
veied  U  .Covered  with  sparkling  dewdrops,  the  shore! 
of  the  lake  reflected  from  between  the  blades  of  grass  m" 
hons  of  d^onds,  lit  up  a.  they  were  by  the  firs!  rays  f 
the  morhmg  em,.  This  sight,  especially  after  they  had 
traveled  through  such  sterile  tra.cts,  was  truly  enchZtin^ 
It  was  hke  an  oasis  in  the  desert.  ^' 

After  some  moments  of  repose,  the  viscount,  havin<. 
given  orders  to  prepare  breakfast,  caUed  Grosbec  to  him 

"  You  are  going  to  accompany  me,"  said  he ;  "  arm  your 
selfwith  a  hatchet."  'irmyour. 

"  Yes,  monseigneur.'*  <' 

■nen  they  proceeded  along  the  shore,  in  the  direction  of 

:nr:LrTr°'''"T'^  '^™  ^-^^  "'"- 

"men  It  was.    The  equerry  renewed  the  nrim 

»g  m  h,s  n^nslet  before  proceeding  any  farther,  and  w^ 

nse^bectobe  „o  hi,  gnard,  advanced  wii  canlT 

etep  across  the  wood.  '»uuous 

^  "  Oh !»  suddenly  exclaimed  the  ex-lancei^  discovering  th« ' 
cabm.    "What's  this?"  ^       coveringthe       ^ 

^ush!;>saidhiBguide,^dMbIing  lusprecau^s. 


.|£'i^gt| 


of  you  tako 
asted,  ontho  ' 


le  troop 


re- 


nd, the  8un 
which  had 
the  shores 
f  grass  mil- 
irst  rays  of 
r  they  had 
inchanting; 

iitj  havinsr 
■c  to  him. 

'  arm  your- 


irection  of 
his  former 
thicket,  in 
[  the  prim- 
and  wam- 
cautious 

Bering  the' 
tionst ~^ 


213 

The  zephyr  caressed  the  foliage  of  the  trees  with  a  soft 
trembling,  and  a  streamlet  mingled  its  silvery  voice  with 
thp  murmurs  of  the  air.    No  other  voice  was  heard. 

With  one  hand  on  the  hilt  of  his  sword,  and  the  other' 
on  the  trigger  of  his  musket,  the  viscount  arrived  at  the 
door  of  the  hut.    It  was  wide  open,  and  John  de  Ganay 
entered  courageously. 

No  window  illuminated  the  interior.  First  the  equerry 
found  himself  enveloped  in  thick  darknes^ ;  but  by  degrees, 
his  eyes  becoming  accustomed , to' the  oljscurity,  perceived 
the  objects  which  surrounded  him.  .  Theie  consisted  chiefly 
of  rude  fishing  implemeuts..  J 

John  de  Ganay  was  not  a  little  gurprisLd,  when  the  sou^d 
of  agitated  respiration  made  him  awari  thaj  he  was  not 
alone  in  the  cabin.    Turning  towards  the  place  whence  the  ' 
sound  proceeded,  he  observed  a  persoi  lying  on  a  bed  of  ^ 
branches.  « 

"Be  careful,"  said  he,  to  Grosbec,  wlho  remained  at  the 
door.  » 

■   Then  he  approached  the  bed,  coughpg  loudly.     The  in- 
dividual, who  was  asleep,  awoke. 

"I  am  suffering,"  said  he,  with  a  feiLble  voice. 
"  Who  are  you?"  asked  John  de  Ginay. 

^  "  Ah  I  Monseigneur  de  Ganay  I"  excjlaimed  she,  endeavor- 
ing to  sit  up. 

"  Can  this  be  you,  Yvon  ?" 

"Yes,  monseigneur.    Oh,  heaven,  Uat  happiness  I    My 
-ioly  patronea^ias  granted  my  ferveilt  prayers."  " -— 


■^  r<; 


:..  h^. 


'  ? 


a^wy»T!»-.r.. 


^«.^C-"^    -•*' 


^  iiX^T'^^'^ 


'*> 


^' 


^' 


/y 


<m 


Cf^ 


€ 


\ 


««- 


iK 


^.•f* 


,    214 
"But  how?— Wliat  are  you  doing  here?" 

"Monseigneur,  oh,  how  happy  I  am »  said  Guyonne, 

overcome  with  joy,  and  forgetting  her  assumed  chairacter. 
"FinaUy »     ' 

The  young  woman  covered  the  hand  of  the  equerry  with 

kisses. 

"FinaUy?"  resumed  he,  when  she  was  somewhat  calmed. 
"  Yes,  monseigneur  I    How  good  the  Almighty  is,  to  have 
accoMed  me  the  favor — " 

"Speak,  Yvon,"  said  Jolln  de  Ganay  in  a  tone,  some- 
what severe.    Then  he  added  more  gently: 

"What  has  become  of  you?" 

"In  returning  from  the  excursion  into  the  interior  of  the 
island,"  said  Guyonne,  « I  was  left  behind,  and  hastened  to 
join  you;  but  in  running,  my  foot  slipped,  I  feU,  and  my 
leg  was  broken."  .      , 

"You  have  broken  your  leg?" 

"Alas,  sir,  I  must  have  offended  the  Lord.    Let  his  hoiy 
will  be  done  I      •  ''^ 

"I  passed  the  night  where  I  fell-incapable  of  making 
any  movement;  so  I  resigned  myself  to  die  of  grief,  or 
hunger,  when  next  morning  I  saw  a  strange  bemg  approach 
who  seemed  to  me  a  demon.  Believing  that  it  was  death, 
I  asked  pardon  of  God  for  ^y  sins ;  but  as  soon  as  he  saw 
me,  he  concealed  himself,  then  returned  slowly,  then  he  con- 
cealed  himself  agam,  returned  the  third  time,  advancing 
nearer  and  nearer."  * 


^..  _«Itwa8afiftv«gtjranxioiMf%«^ 


.i;fci 


>'>.i^l^H£'. 


rtA  j-« 


<m 


'riSi 


'I 


Guyohne, 
character. 

lerry  with 

it  calmed, 
is,  to  have 

ne,  some- 


ior  of  the 
stened  to 
,  and  my 


his  holy 

making 
grief,  or 
pproach 
s  death, 
1  he  saw 
I  he  con- 
vancing 


nt 


215 

"No,  monseigneur ;  he  is  a  Frenchman." 

"A  Frenchman  1" 

"Yes,  he  is  completely  mute  and  insane,  the  poor  manl 
lijelieve,  he  must  have  been  ship-wrecked  many  years  ago, 
and  had  succeeded  in  gaining  this  island,  where  the  instinct 
of  preservation  taught  him  the  means  of  .providing  for  ex- 
istence." 

"And  you — Yvon  ?"  • 

"Oh,  master,  your  kindness  to  a  poor  serf  is  too  much. 
He  bVought  me  into  his  cabin,  and  supported—" 

"  But  your  fracture  ?" 

"My  leg  still  causes  much  suffering,"  replied  the  young 
woman. 

"  Is  the  bone  set  ?" 

i 

"  Yes,  master,  he  set  it  himself  It  was  not  without  pain  ; 
but  I  have  prayed  to  God  so  much  to  preserve  my  life  and 
health  that  I  might  consecrate  them  to  you  that  he  has  ' 
deigned  to  accord  me  his  powerful  aid." 

"  Where  is  this  man  ?" 

"He  has  gone  out  to  fish,  sir.", 

"  Will  he  return  soon  ?" 

"  I  c^d  not  say ;  but  the  sight  of  you  will  make  him—" 

.     "  Run  away,"  said  the  viscount,  observing  that  she  was 
loath  tp(f¥oceed. 

"  I  fear^io,  monseigneur." 

John  de  Ganay  reflected  for  a  few  seconds. 

"It  is  impossiblaihr  yon  to  wallt" 


"  Impossible,  monsieur  1" 


^■fr    '■,-'A    Jj-*f^ 


,^Vv 


Ik*' 
■  <>^ 

Iff-*- 

> 


216 

"Wait  tiU  this  evening;  I  will  come  back  for  you  to 
bring  you  to  the  camp." 

After  having  again  exchanged  some  words  with  the  pre- 
tended  Yvon,  John  de  Ganay  left  the  tent,  and  returned 
towards  his  companions,  telling  Grosbec  to  say  nothing 
about  the  adventure. 


41 


.  ,-.*,■  -.;>i.Hl"lJ.i,iy'ii 


you  to 

ihe  pre- 
Jturned 
Jothing 


I 


Y' 


^ 


CHAPTER  Xn. 

<y 
«^    DEATH     OW    BRISE-XOtJX. 

As  Viscount  de  Ganay  and  the  ex-lancer  approached  the 
place  where  they  had  left  the  bandits,  he  remarked  that 
the  latter  were  greatly  agitated.  Armed  into  a  circle,  they 
seemed  engaged  in  a  warm  altercation.  They  stamped, 
talked  loud,  swayed  to  and  fro— in  short,  had  all  the  ap- 
pearance, even  at  a  distance,  of  people  ready  to  stiike  each 

other. 

« 

Grosbec  was  the  first  to  distinguish  this  extraordinary^ 
scene ;  he  called  the  attention  of  his  master  to  it. 

"Monsieur!"  said  he. 

John  de  Ganay  whose  ideas  wandered  in  the  region  of 
the  imagination,  started,  and  raised  his  head. 

"Master,"  resumed   his   interlocutor,    "I  believe  that 
there  is  something  unusual  passing  there  below." 

The  jdungiord  looked  iati^direetiea^ in. which hi»i^ 


tendant  had  pointed  his  fiogei^. 


■\:\ 


''-.« 


I<i. 


.  v..a 


'1  ■' 


[J-    1 


•  ,218 

«  A  quarrel,  doubtless,"  said  he ;  "come,  let  us  hurry." 
They  saently  redoubled  their  steps,  and  soon  attained 
the  |rst  rank  of  the  circle,  formed  by  the  exiles. 

The  minds  of  the  latter  t^rere  so  much  absorbed  m  other 
matters,  that  they  continued  their  clamors  and  gestures 
without  paying  any  aitention  to  the  presence  of  the  vis- 
count, who  was  Under  the  necessity  of  calling  on  them  to 
separate,  in  order  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  trouble. 

At  first  his  order  had  no  effect;  but  Grosbec,  having  re- 
iierated  it  in  a  commanding  tone,  they  thought  it  best,  to 
yield,  and  John  entered  the  actual  scene  of  the  difficulty. 
A  most  tragical  drama  was  on  the  point  of  being  acted, 
/  whilst  the  speakers  howled  diabolically  i^und  two  Individ"- 
uals  whose  aspect-was  as  different  as  the  employment  in 
which  th6y  figured. 

One  of  the  pereonages  was  no  other  than  our  old  acquaint- 
ance, Brise-tout;  but  the  second  was  a  stranger,  singularly 
acoutred  with  a  dress  composed  of  divers'  skins,  sewed  to- 
gether.   He  wore  this  costume  like  a  mantle ;  his  head,  his 
legs,  and  his  arms^eing  naked.    Nothing  could  be  more 
grotesque  than  the  physiognomy  of  this  mdividual.   Thick, 
curling  hair  covered  his  head  and  descended  in  long,  uncomb- 
ed tufts  on  his  shoulders,  tanned  by  the  heat.    It  served 
as  a  frame  for  his  meagre  gruff  countenance  which  had 
an  mfantine  appearance,  although  age  had  ab-eady  marked 
his  features  with  an  indelUble  stamp. 

The  position  of  the  unknown  was  that  of  one  condemned 
to  death. 

His  hands  were  tied  behind  his  back,  and  a  coarse  rope 
^^Tound  Mb  neck,Wend  of  which,  thrown  over  abrandi   ^ 


% 


'ii?-?:e?u 


'■iwi^i^^"im^^ 


"?". 


rht 


i/ 


219 

v' 

of  oak,  was  held  by  two  robust  convicts  who  awaited  the 
signal  to  draw  the  cord,  and  strangle  the  victim  at  the 
other  extremity  '  \  '  - 

Whether  it  was  that  he  was  not  aware  of  the  sort  of 
punishment  designed  for  him,  or  that  he  despised  tortures, 
.  the  unfortunate  man  made  no  movement  to  attempt  to  es- 
cape from  his  executioners,  but  looked  at  their  preparations 
with  an  air  of  indifference.  Before'  him  was  the  body  of 
Bnse-tout.  The  bowels  of  the  colossus  were  open  to  view, 
and  there  was  a  large  wound  above  his  Jeft  breast,  from 
which  thick  blood  flowed.  Francis  Rivet  had  not  yet 
breathed  his  last ;  but  his  last  hour  had  comp. 

At  the  moment  when  the  viscount  made  his  appearance, 
Brise-tout  raised  himself  on  his  elbow,  like  a  lamp  that  is 
re-animated  before  it  is  extinguished,  and  cast  a  hideous 
menace  at  the  spectators!, 

*  *  ♦  ♦  *  » 

This  scene  was  enacted  in  a  much  shorter  time  than  it 
tas  taken  us  to  flescribe  it ;  its  last  phase  had  be^so  rapid 
^hat  the  convicts  had  almost  forgotten  the  stranger  who, 
witt  the  rope  about  his  neck,  contemplated  the  whole 
scene  with  the  utmost  indifference.  But  as  soon  as  Rivet 
breathed  his  last,  the  cry  «  Hang  him !  hang  him  I  hang  the 
murderer  I"  was  shouted  on  every  side. 

Already  the  two  improvised  executioners,  in  order  to 
show  their  good-will,  pulled  the  fatal  cord  which  was  to    , 
launch  a  human  beinir  into  eternity,  when  the  eqn«rry. 


drawing  his  sword,  out  the  rope  with  a  blow,  and  the  ua- 
known  man  fell  to  the  gt^und  with  a  cry  of  suffocation. 


•  #• 


%  ^ 


it 


^  i20  ' 

"Let  none  of  you  touch  this  man !"  said  de  Ganay  with 
'  an  irresistible  gesture.  * 

Observing  tliat,  notwithstanding  liis  order,  the  sailor, 
Pierre,  manifested  a  disposition  to  proceed,  he  walked  to- 
wards him  with  his  sword  uplifted,  and  said  to  hun  reso- 
lutely: • 

"  One  word  more,  and  you  are  dead !" 

Certain  of  their  obedience,  the  viscount  ordered  one  of 
those  near  ^im,  to  untie  the  victim,  which  was  immediately 
complied  with.  The  unknowA  got  up  quickly,,  boimded 
between  those  who  surrounded  him,  and  before  any  <ine 
thought  of  opposing  him,  he  had  precipitated  himself  into 
the  lake. 

There  he  soon  disappeared  from  the  eyes  of  all. 
John  de  Ganay  recovered  from  his  surprise,  easily  divin- 
ed  that  this  individual- was  the  proprietor  of  the  tent  who 
had  lavished  his  good  offices  on  Yvon;  but  there  remained 
a  mystery  to  be  cleared  up,  that  of  the  death  of  Brise-tout.' 
The  equerry  questioned  his  people.    He  learned,  that 
after  his  departure,  Francis  Rivet,  being  gone  to  explore 
the  southeastern  part  of  the  island,   saw  a  man  fishing. 
Supposing  him  to  be  ^  savage,  the  giant  rushed  at  him 
with,  the  intention  of  making  him  a  prisoner.    A  struggle 
.ensued,  during  which  the  individual  attacked  struck  his 
adversary  with    a    sharp  instrument.      Feeling  himself 
wounded,  Brise-tout  called  for  aid,  but  without. letting  go 
his  hold.    Some  convicts,  who  happened  to  be  near,  ran  to 
J^^k^ey^seked^  the  stMrager,_^rotted  him,  /'inducted ,_ 


film  t<)  the  camp,  and  prepared  to  hang  him,  in  order  to 


\  .v.-,<.: 


^  221 

3 

r  •  *  • 

avenge  their  comrade,  in  compliance  with  his  dying  wish, 
when  the  sudden  arrival  of  the  viscount  prevented  them. 

This  story  seemed  plausible  enough ;  John  de  Ganay  was' 
satisfied  with  it  for  th^  mcmient.  He  caused  a  grave  to  be 
dug,  aud  had  |,he  unfortunate  Brise-tout  buried,  whose  pre- 
mature end  caused  bdt  little  regret. 

As  a  funeral  oratfon,  Nabot  recited  over  the  grave  of  the 
defunct,  with  a  slight  variation  a  stanza  which  he  had  com- 
posed some  days  previously. 


"%^(f^   i 


Passant,  sous  cet  amas  de  sable  amoncele, 
Git  la  pourriture  d'un  goinfre  ensorcele 
Frangois  Rivet,  surnomme  Brise-tout 
Passe  maitre  dans  I'art  de  faire  atout, 
Qui,  faute  de  soudure 
Creva  d'une  blcssure. 


.JuJi:: 


CHAPTER  Xm. 


*\ 


(1 

The  end  of  the  summer  of  1598  approached.    Some  three 
months  previously  the  Castor  had  disembarked  her  human 
cargo  on  the  Isle  of  Sable.    During  this  tune  the  unfortu- 
nates encouraged  themselves  each  day  with  the  hope  of 
seeing  at  the  horizon  the  vessel  wWch  had  brought  them; 
but  each  day  they  were  doomed  to  disappomtment.    Anx* 
ietymade  them  look  haggard;  discouragement  enfeebled 
their  arms,  and  anger  excited  their  minds.    Still,  on  the 
sea-shore,  and  on  the  brink  of  the  lake,  tents  first,  and  then 
cabins,  were  constructed;  the  existence  of  the  proscribed 
was  systematized;  they  enjoyed  a  certain  amount  of  com- 
fort.    Some  killed  game,  others  caught  fish;  aU  worked 
more  or  less;  tliere  was  no  lack  of  provisions.    Besides  a 
pretty  large  quantity  of  salt  meat,  but  Uttle  damaged, 
which  they  had  saved  from  the  wreck  of  the  Erable,  t°hey 


■  ***i 


'?^^S^iiM^4^^^^^>: 


"^^ 


*\ 


-X- 


223 


sheep,  deer,  and  other  domestic  animals,  which  had  prob- 
ably  been  left  there"  by  colonists  who  had  previously  in- 
habited the  island.    Yet,  the  causes  of  affliction  abounded ; 
for  the  majority,  the  absolute  ignorance  of  the  situation  of 
the  island  wliich  they  occupied,  the  obligation  of  attending 
to  labors  to  which  they  had  not  been^accustomed,  the  se- 
verity of  the  discipline  to  which  they  were  subjected  by  the 
viscount,  the  monotony  of  their  relations  were  sufficient 
motives  for  corroding  cares;  for, some,  for  the  better  na- 
ture8,the  sterility  of  the  soil,  isolation,  and  uncertainty/ 
were  sufficient  reasons  for  disgust ;  and  besides  the  pros- 
pect of  a  winter  in  these  sav'^ge  regions,  excited  terrible 
apprehensions. 

Viscount  de  Ganay  himself  was  a  prey  to  doubt  and  fear. 
His  faithfid  sailor,  Philip  Francoeur,  tried  in  vain  to  reas- 
sure him.  The  equerry  triumphed  with  difficulty  over  ]^b 
regrets ;  for  a  thousand  anguishes  lacerated  his  heart.    Xhe 

^  recollection  of  his  dear  Burgundy,  of  his  family^  of  his 
friends,  of  the  gay  romances  which  youthful  imagination 
had  embroidered  with  flowers,  often  recurred  to  his  mind. 
Nevertheless,  he  thought  but  seldom  of  Laura  de  Kers- 

'  kocn,  the  object  of  his  former  love;  and  when  her  image 
did  retm-n,  he  hastened  to  dispel  it  as  an  illusion. 

Wishing  to  be  prepared  against  all  attempts  which  the 
convicts  were  likely  to  make,  the  equerry  proceeded  with 
Maleficieux  to  the  camp  at  the  lake. 

Some,  he  thought,  are  enemies  of  agriculture,  who  prefer 
to  devote  themselves  exclusively  to  fishing  and  the  chase,   ' 

jivMejOtherswerewillmgLta  remain  with  him  to  ^aiavate-= 


the  soil.     By  this  means,  as  soon  as  there  is  a  hah^t,  the 


4 


'¥■■ 


iff 


S^^ 


^*^V, 


j-^^^li; 


.i/jf: 


m  , 


/■ 


W 


224 


two  bands  mil  exchange  their  products.  But  in  reflecting 
on  this.plan,  he  thought  that  after  aUit  might  produce  dis- 
astrous  results. 

After  having  promenaded  for  some  minutes  amongst  the 
groups,  the  viscount  approached  a  tent,  at  the  door  of  which 
Maleficieux  was  engaged  in  making  mats. 

«  WeU  ?»  said  the  equerry,  with  a  mysterious  air. 

FrancoQur  glanced  around  him  before  makbg  any  re- 
«ponse.  .       " 

"Is  there  any  improvement?"  pursued  the  viscount. 

"Improvement?  no  master.  Alas  I  the  fever  is  rather  -^ 
on  the  increase;  and  nothing  grieves  me  more  than  to  ' 
thmk -» 

"Hush !»  said  the  equerry,  putting  his  finger  to  his  lips, 
at  the  sight  of  a  convict  who  lounged  about  the  cabin. 

The  saUor  understood  the  gesture,  and  addressed  the 
bandit: 

"  Oh,  Porturin !  go  and  draw  the  net  I  left  this  morning 
at  the  bottom  of  the  lake ;  you  know.  It  ought  to  be  weU 
freighted  now." 

"  Yes,  indeed,  by  the  trident  of  Neptune !" 

When  the  intruder  was  gone,  Philip  said  in  a  loud  voile 
to  the  viscount ; 

«  However,  there  is  still  some  hope— much  hope-I  know 

something  about  medical  afl[airs,  master « 

"  Has  the  delirium  ceased  ?" 

"IbeUeveso.    See  for  yourself.    J  will  Vatk  while  von 
"^iffe  away."  ;  , — — "' ■  ' ^.-^ ..-..-.. .:=afc==:- 


^y^. 


■,"•*<*■ '^'  ' 


,-       ■"■-,-«■ 


-^r'-f.' 


225    .   . 

The  viscount  put  aside  some  platted  osjers  which  served 
as  a  door  for  the  hut,  and  entered.  The  interior  was  ^.aked, 
but  remarkably  neat.  Filtrating  through  an  opening  in  the 
top,  and  passing  through  a  linen  screen  placed  before  that 
opening,  the  sun  shed  a  soft  and  rosy  light  through  the 
cabm.  Opposite  to  the  window,  on  a  bed  of  heathe^,  lay  a 
woman.  She  seemed  in  a  sound  sleep,  although  her  respi- 
ration was  somewhat  d^cult;  a  coarse,  but  neat  cloth,  was 
spread  over  her.  % 

The  viscount  advanced  slowly,  holding  his  breath.  He 
regarded  the  patient  in  silence  for  some  minutes. 

Need  we  say  that  it  was  Guyonne  ? 

She  had  been  transferred  tb  the  camp.  Fever  and  deli- 
rium had  seized  her  the  very  evening  of  her  arrival,  and 
had  not  since  quitted  her. 

Philip  Francoeur,  the  first  charged  with  taking  care  of 
%2r,  had  discovered  the  sex  of  the  pretended  Yvon.  In- 
formed  of  this  discovery,  John  de  Ganay  enjoined  the 
strictest  secresy. 

Suffering  had  committed  cruel  ravages  on  the  features' 
of  the  poor  girl.  A  morbid  paleness  replaced  the^oses  on 
her  complexion,  and  her  cheeks  were  hoUow,  her  eyeballs 
inflamed,  and  her  parched  lips  scaled  with  yeUow  pellicles. 
Still,  her  beauty  had  not  disappeared;  it  had  only  altered 
its  character.  The  languor  had  removed  all  that  was  mas- 
cuhne  in  her  features,  to  replace  it  with  that  femuiine 
expression,  more  characteristic  of  woman. 

Thus,  seen  in  this  cabin  by  the  feeble  light  of  the  setting 


lV 


inH^^uyoirae  presentea:  an  adinirable  incarnation  of  jhyl 


ical  suffering, 


^'-K 


Ki^ 


926 

In  hor  sleep  she  murmured  incoherent  words,  in  the 
midst  of  which  the  first  name^f  the  viscount  frequently 
occurred,  accompanied  with  sighs. 

John  took  her  by^he  arm  and  examined  her  pulse ;  it 

beat  quick,  but  the  pulsations  were  not  irregular.    This 

examination  seemed  a  good  auguryto  theViscount,  for  a 

'      ray  of  joy  crossed  his  eyes.    Then,  taking  from  his  pocket 

the  portrait  which  he  had  found  in  the  coffer,  he  began  to 

■  study  its  details,  contemplating  in  turn  th\  physiognomy 

.  of  the  great  lady,  and  that  of  tjie  exile. 

"It  is,  indeed,  she,"  thought  he;  « the  resemblance  is  com- 
plete:  nothing  is  wanting ;  not  even  that  httle  red  mole 
under  her  right  ear.    What  an  enigma  I    Oh,  I  must  ques-' 
tion  her,  and  tell  her  how ^" 

The  young  woman  move(J  in  her  couch,  and  the  viscount 
promptly  put  up  the  medallion. 

,      "Do  you  stm  suffer  from  the  fracture?"  asked  the  vis- 
count? 

Guyonne  did  not  reply  ait  once;  and  observmg  that  she 
tned  to  move  her  leg,  in  order,  doubtless,  to  see  whether 
It  was  healing,  John  added : 

"No,  no  1  don't  stir.  Moving  may  hurt  it;  remain 
still.  .  -  -" 

After  these  remarks,  there  was  a  sflence  of  several  min- 
utes between  the  young  people.  They  avoided  looking  at 
each  other,  and  seemed  as  if  they  were  afraid  to  communi. 
cate  to  each  other  their  thoughts. 

John  de  Ganay  remained  in  ^e  same  position.    Pros- 
Jrafed  before  Guyoimt,  lie  hdd  Oie  right  iiand  of  the  pa- 


*■«» 


."^^v- 


■•=:"fj  |- 


227 

tient  in  his  left,  and  leaning  on  the  bed  with  his  elbow 
concealed  his  face  in  his  right  hand.  The  beating  of  his 
heart  beat  in  unison  with  that  of  the  heart  o^  the  youn^ 
woman;  and  burning  sighs  escaped  from  tJieir  surcharged 


«► ,', 


L 


4 


M 


Of.''' 


'%,-f,  '^-'vjj^^.. 


iJKltt?''**^'''''""' 


W 


t>S 


'\^ 


CHAPTER  Xiy. 

*>^  '     ■  '  .  ' 

■\ 

THE     1  N  X  R  I  C3HJ  E. 

This  movement  having  disarranged  the  cloth  that  cov- 
ered  Guyonne,  her  arms,  shoulders,  and  neck,  appeared  so 
.  ^hite  as  mvoluntarily  to  remind  one  of  alabaster.  John 
de  Ganay  lowered  his  eyes,  his  countenance  assumed  a 
purple  hue,  and  an  indescribable  tremor  pervaded  his 
whole  frame. 

'^^M^l^rsty,'.'  murmured  Guyonne,    with  a  voice  ex- 
-^  pi^ssive  of  pain. 

The  viscount  gave  a  hurried  glance  around. 

"rm  thirsty,"  repe^ed  the  young  woman,  opening  her 
eyes  for  the  first  time. 

First  she  did  not  know  the  equerry,  who,  in  a  corner  of 
the  cabm,  poured  some  water  iu  a  wooden  mug;  but  re- 

^*ao  4J10U1,  ^wimh  would  tetraylier  mo^sty.        


i-^    ' 


^, 


229 


cov- 
5d  so 
John 
ed  a 

his 

I  ex- 


her 

rof 
t  re- 
sted 


The  viscount  returned  to  the  bed,  bringing  the  only  drink 
he  could  give  the  poor  patient. 

While  approaching,  he  trembled  all  over ;  a  lively  carna- 
tion suffused  his  cheeks',  and  the  perspiration  flowed  from 
his  face.    He  seemed  as  if  about  to  commit  a  bad  action. 

Guyonne  made  an  exclamation  on  seeing  him ;  then  bash- 
ful and  confused,  she  closed  her  eyes  without  venturing  to 
utter  a  word. 

"  Take  a  drink,"  said  he,  in  a  low  tone,  more  timid,  more 
frightened,  perhaps,  than  his  pr'ot^g^e. 

And  while  she  hesitated,  or  rather  did  not  understand 
what  he  said,  he  added,  kneeling  before  the  bed,  and  put- 
,  ting  the  mug  to  her  lips : 

"Drink!  This  water  will  appease  the  thirst  which  de- 
vours you.  Would  that  I  could  offer  you  something  bet- 
ter." s» 

"  Thank  you,  monseigneur;  your  kindness  to  me  is  very 
great,". stammered  the  pretended  Yvon,  with  a  voice  ^eeply 
moved. 

Was  the  malady  of  Guyonne  contagious?  had  John  con- 
tracted it  ?  and  were  both  now  laboring  under  fever  ? 

Suddenly  the  viscount  seized  the  hand  of  Guyonne  pas- 
sionately, and  bent  forward  as  if  going  to  kiss  it,  then  as 
suddenly  repressing  the  thought  which  prompted  him,  he 
stood  up  abruptly  £|»"*/commenced  to  walk  up  and  down  in 
the  cabin. 

Had  the  obscurity  not  prevented  Iier,  Guyonne  might 
have  remarked,  that  the  features  of  the  lover  of  Laura  de 
KeiTskocu  were  diacomposed,  andthat  buming  tcara  g«d>ed- 


^ 


t 


r 


from  bis  eyes. 


TTTt* 


J«*^   1 


*  280 

John  de  Ganay  might  also  have  perceived  that  the  pre- 
tended  .Guyonne  wept. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  had  passed  before  they  exchanged 
^a  word.    A  world  of  thoughts  struggled  in  the  mind  of  the 
viscount;  Guyonne  awaited  with  feverish  impatience  the 
end  of  this  scene.    An  involuntary  sob  escaped  her ;  at  this 
ebulhtion  of  grief,  the  equerry  started.    He  paused,  made 
a  violent  effort  against  his  emotion,  and  then,  with  a  tran- 
^      qml  and  firm  step,  he  went  and  sat  down  beside  the  patient 
Silence  was  resumed,  but  it  ^aa  of  short  duration.    Soon 
John  de  Ganay,  who  seemed  a  prey  to  an  internal  struggle 
triumphed  over  his  hesitation;  and  with  a  voice  almost 
solemn,  he  asked  the  young  woman  : 

"Have  you  not  said  that  you  are  the  son  of  a  fisherman 
who  was  a  vassal  of  the  Marquis  de  la  Roche  ?"  ' 

«  Yes,  sir,"  murmured  Guyonne,  in  an  unintelligible  tone 
intimidated  by  the  tenor  of  the  question. 

"His  son,'*  repeated  the  viscount,  without  disguising  the 
discontent  which  her  reply  caused  him. 

Guyomie  made  no  reply.  She  waa  nfr^id ;  she  saw  that 
her  position  was  no  longer  a  secret  to  tiet  viscomit;  and 
when  the  latter  repeated  the  third  time  "hiswn,"  inca- 
pable  of  dissimulating  any  longer,  she  exclaimed,  wringing 
her  hands ;  ^ 

"Oh,  messire,  pardon,  pardon,  pardon  a  poor  girl  I    I 
will  teU  you  aU—the  whole  truth/^.  / 

Overwhelmed  with  tiiis  oonfe8sion,Ve  heived  a  deep 


/ 


281 

It  waa  now  night;  the  objects  in  the  cabin  could  no 
longer  be  distingtiished. 

John  de  Ganay,  astonished,  and  frightened  at  not  hear- 
ing  her  voice  any  more,  called : 
"YvonI    Yvqhr, 

.ft 

His  call  elicited  no  reply.  Tr«mbling,  in  turn,  the  young 
man  laid  his  haM  on  tK|^#of  Guyonne;  it  was  as  cold 
as  marble.  *>* 

"  Great  God !"  exclalR^e,  «  has  my  brutality  hastened 
the  death  of  the  unfortunate  girl !" 
Then  he  added,  running  towards  the  door : 
"Philip,  Plulipl  a  light— a  torch!" 

But  at  the  same  instant,  Maleficieux  entered  abruptly, 
shouting :  * 

"To  arms,  messire!  to  arms  I  Our  men  have  re- 
volted." 

A  discharge  of  musketry,  accompanied  with  frightful 
vociferations,  immediately  confirmed  the  assertion  of  Philip 
Francoeur. 

Forgetting  everything  else,^  the  viscount  bounded  rather 
than  ran  outside. 

He  had  drawn  his  sword,  and  while  his  right  hand  brand- 
ished the  glittering  blade  in  the  darkness,  his  left  was  armed 
with  a  pistol. 

Behind  him,  but  finding  it  diflScult  to  keep  up  with  him, 
so  precipitate  were  his  movements,  ran  Philip  Francceur. 
The  sailor,  too,  was,  so  to  speak,  armed  to  the  teeth. , 


.f-1 


m 


t"*-* 

ty 


"J- 


^  \ 


'  c^ »* ''■''  >  '-"  '''''Tin 


A  thousand  strange  cries  broke  the  stilness  of  the  night ; 
and  then  occasional  detonations,  preceded  by  flashes,liad 
added  to  the  horror  of  the  scene.    '     ^ 

«  Death !  death  I  death  to  the  tyrant !  Death  to  Viscount 
^ohn  de  Ganay,"  howled  distant  voices. 

"H^ihelpI  Saintl>ennisl  Montjoy!  Toannslto 
arms!"  exclauned  other  voices,  more  coi^venient. 


h 
♦ 


'M!^^is^bi^^^S.i±f^^ 


Si£kik:^'-OE3&iif«LL  i/.u«-.v^' ... 


CHAPTER  XV. 


a?H:E     INSTTRRE  C  T  I  O  N'. 


■  ,1 

'■A 


Before  reporting  the  events  of  that  night,  so  remark-^      ' 
able  in  the  lives  of  the  convicts  abandoned  on  the  Isle  of 
Sable,  by  the  Marquis  de  la  Roche,  let  us  mention  in  a  few- 
words  what  had  passed  the  preceding  days. 

The  reader  will  doubtless  remember,  that  the  viscount      * 
had  deemed  it  advisable  to  divide  his  people  into  two  bands ; 
the  one  to  remain  in  the  <iimp,  at  the  sea-shote,  the  other  to 
establish  itself  be^aide  the  lake,andemploy  itself  more  particu- 
larly in  works  of  agriculture  and  colonization.    This  second  s. 
troop,  composed  of  only  twenty-nine  men,  since  the  death  of"   ^ 
Brise-tout,  formed,  so  to  speak,  the  staff.  The  place  whi^h  it 
occupied  was  a  sort  of  headquarters,  whither  the  equerry 
had  caused  all  munitions,  and  all  other  things  not  necessary 

fe''  ™"°^4^^^g.^°*^  .4^^y  ^g^v]tQ  J>Q^^  c^^  Having  left 

under  the  detatchment  commanded  by  the  sailor  Pierie  but 
a  small  number  of  aims,  he  thought  himself  safe  against  all 


'•'i 


•■*i 


''-'^t'::.1^i^' 


:^",'  i 


%, 


«i" 


4 


4^ 


234 


i. 


T  t  "™"'  ™.?'*  ^  "<'  «"»«  ''io»  ke  rightly 
-^rded  fJthe  moat  ?„di.oipK„ed  of  the  foop.  ifh!' 
leen  observed  in  .  p„„edi„g  „„„p,er,  that  at  th!  .i„e  of 

«^e  wreok  of  the  E,.We,  the  sai.0.  Pie„e  had  oWeati,;, 

,      ..me  the  Ba,l„r  was  eagaged  in  getting  up  a  conspiracy. 

Sullen  and  an,b,tio„,,  he  aspired  to  overthrow  John  de 

Ganay  no  matter  how,  and  place  himself  in  comi«.„d.     If 

,    Pftrre  had  not  thai  vigor  of  mind  and  musenlar  force  which 

overawe  the  masses,  he  possessed  in  a  high  deg,.ee  ihe  art  of 

iss.muIat.on,  and  of  fostering  around  him  the  bad  design. 

•    f""7-"yh.mself.    He  suspicions  of  John  de  Gan^y 

fouLtr"'  *"  '^  ''^'""''  ""'"  '^"''^"'^  ""■'  '°°  *^^> 
'  *  • 

.      Although  he  lulled  himself  into  no  false  sense  of  security 
bat  suspected  a  part  of  the  truth,  he  did  not  believe  that  a 
revolt  was  possible,  much  less  so  near.    The  day  the  events 
were  aeoomplished,  which  we  are  about  to  note  here,  he 
had  condemned  one  of  the  soldiers  to  corporal  punishment, 
''.7-g  P^^ok^d-  assaulted,  and  seriously  wom,ded  a 
colonist.    The  punishment  was  just,  but  not  from  the  point 
ofvew  of  the  soldiers.    In  thoevening,  as  was  theircustom, 
hey  „et  together  and  threatened  Ae  colonists,  whom  the^ 
6a,d  the  v,seou„t  was  constantly  fav„.ing  at  their  expense 
m,  m^t  not  be,  thought  they;  it  must  be  put  an  end  to; 
and  rf  they  were  put  to  i,,  they  would  show  that  they  had 
^bod  m  the.r  veins.    The  orator  of  the  band,  an  Man, 


qnetorLong-croe,  mounted  an  empty  barrel  afad  harangued 


^'.&^i*.t:\f,/.i  -!.. *>,ir4t.-'i-.5  .■  -j.i^.^. 


I  ,^-7fr^^ 


r 


235 


the  crowd.  '  He  recalled  the  sentence  which  had  been  paascd 
in  the  morning,  demonstrated,  in  animadverting  on  the  in- 
cidents  of  the  quarrel  between  the  soldier  and  the  colonist, 
that  the  punishment  inflicted  on  tjie  former,  should  have 
been  on  the  latter,  passed  in  review  several  previous  sen- 
tences passed  by  the  viscount  against  his  brave  companions, 
for  the  benefit  of  the  privileged,  recapitulated  a  hundred 
imaginary  wrongs,  spofce  of  courage,  valor,  equality,  and 
finaUy  wound  up  with  protesting,  that  in  the  name  of  jus- 
tice they  were  aU  bound  to  demand,  to  exact,  and  to  obtain 
reparation.    Ludqvico  improvised  warmly;  his  eloquence 
was  well  calculated  to  vibrate  the  susceptible  chords  of 
such  an  audience.    Thunders  of  applause  welcomed  his 
peroration.    The  opportunity  was  good,  and  Pierre  did  not 
fail  to  avail  himself  of  it. 

"Yes,"  said  he,  when  Ruggi  had  finished  his  speech, 
"yes,  I  begin  to  perceive  that  at  last  we  are  treated, 
as  if  we  had  the'leprosy,  and  that  we  are  but  the  Serfs  of 
the  colonists.  Hitherto  I  had  closed  my  eyes  against  the 
light ;  but  now  I  am  forced  to  open  them.  *  ♦  *  i  trem- 
ble  to  think  that  my  good  faith  has  been  })asely  imposed* 
upon,  •  *  and  like  our  dear  friend  Long-croc,  I  am  con- 
vinced that,  in  the  name  of  justice,  we  arebound  to  demand, 
Slact,  and  obtain,  a  prompt  and  decisive  reparation  for  our 
grievances."  "  ^ 

The  speech  of  the  sailor  was  received  with  cheers  not 
less  energetic  or  less  enthusiastic  than  that  of  Ruggi.  JOs 
repetita  placet. 

___JJut^^4tbe^asy  to  make  speeeires,irls"nTJt  bo  eaayTo"^ 
act.    Pierre  was  not  ignorant  of  this.    When  one  of  th^ 


<*- 


"^   -^ilrj 


-  V 

T 


,^,j  niWW^ 


Wr- 


Kl.    \ 


.286  ' 

malcontents  exclaimed,  "How  are  we  to  have  a  repara- 
tion?"  there  was  a  profound  sUence  in  the  assembly, 
Tne  Italian  twirled  his  mustache,  interrogating  Pierre  by 
his  looks.  The  latter  pinched  his  nose  with  anfmbarrassed 
au-,  not  that  he  was  not  prepared  for  that  question.  He 
had  combined  his  tactics  in  advance;  but  he  was  a  poI- 
troon ;  he  did  not  like  to  compromise  himself;  ho  preferred 
to  wait  until  another  would  take  the  initiative;  then  he 
would  direct  every  part  of  the  programme ;  what  he  ex- 
pected  happened. 

The  ice  was  broken.  Timid  ^nd  uncertain  at  first,  but 
Boon  violent  and  menacing  impre-gjitions  were  heard  on  oU 
sides,  against  Viscount  de  Ganay. 


S 


^ 


.^■ 


\-^V 


i^S^ 


«1 


'  41 


iV   I 


'  4  -v^ 


r*.^ 
,«.< 


i  CHAPTER  XVL 

TIIiacOMBA.T. 

,TnE  command  of  the  rebels  had  been  offered  to  the 
BaUor  Pierre,  but  the  latter,  too  cunning  to  assume  so  heavy 
a  responsibility,  had  refused  it.  His  associate,  Ruggi,  then 
called  to  the  chief  command,  readily  accepted  it.  Brag- 
gart and  bully,  but  nevertheless  brave,  and  fond  of  dangers, 
the  Italian  had  all  the  necessary  qualities  for  the  chief  of  an 
insurrection. 

Taken  by  surprise,  the  convicts  near  the  lakfe  had  ftot 
had  time  to  make  any  preparations  for  defense.. 

Not  knowing,  besides,  what  kind  of  enemies  thoy  were 
to  encounter,  fearing  that  they  were  the  Indian  ^savages, 
of  whose  horrible  expeditions  they  had,' heard,  they  first 
permitted  themselves  to  get  terribly  fridhtened. 


But  John  deGanay^ew  tbe  aseaitoatsV   With  a  comT 
manding  voice  he  ordered  his  people  i  to  follow  him,  and 


p 
■^•j' 


-'  '-.Vt- 


( 


'4-^ 


'J^ 


I'  M 


238  : 

defend  themselves.    Each  person  anned  himself  in  haste  • 
and  m  a  few  minutes  the  dolonists  were  drawn  up  on  the 
brmk  of  the  ditch  which  they  had  dug  before  their  tents, 
ready  to  receive  the  aggressoi^.    I^othing  could  be  dis- 
-tingmshed  yet,  more  than  figures' moving  in  the  shade. 
From  time  to  time  clamors  resbunded  in  the  midst  of  a 
well-supported  fusilade,  which  issued  only  from  the  wood. 
The  ex-lancer  Grosbec,  and  Philip  Francoeur,  were  ranged 
on  each  side  of  the  viscount,  near  the  principal  entrance. 
Access  to  the  camp  became, 'then,  difficult;  for  it  was  pro- 
tected by  the  ditch,  which  formed  a  semi-circle  around  it, 
of  which  the  lake  was  the  ^ord. 

With  less,  precipitation,  more  skiU,  and  combined  action, 
the  conspirators  might  easily  have  overpowered  their  com- 
panions.    For  this  purpose  it  was  only  necessary  to  come 
to  the  entrance  without  noise,  and  then  precipitate  them- 
^selves  into  the  camp:  But  the  first  troop  perceived  a  troop 
of  men  promenading.    Caliban,  the  chief  of  this  troop,  be- 
lieved  that  one  of  these  men  was  John  de  Ganay.    As  the 
object  of  the  rebel  was,  above  aU  things,  to  rid  himself 
of  the  viscount,  he  ordered  his  men  to  fire.    Several  shots 
were  now^rfed  in  succession,  but  no  harm  was  done. 
Whether  it  was  that  the  darkness,  prevented  them  ffL 
taking  aim,  or  that  they  were  unaccustomed  to  handle  fire- 
arms, the  soldiers  hit  nobody. 

John  de  Ganay  had  given  orders  to  his  faithful  subor- 
dinates not  to  fire  without  his  express  command. 

Jemajiin^that  ±he ksurgents  had^aefcened-thei^ 


he  regarded  the  moment  as  favorable  to  caU  on  them  to  re^ 


Ty^~m^-   ■  "w^RprwfSfi^ir^Js-'^ 


[^^.AiH^jiliLi^AMBtMia^t^ 


7--'-~f  u 


239 

turn  to  their  duty,  telling  them,  if  they  l\ad  grievances;  to 
«iake  them  kno«m  to  him,  and  that  he  wUd  endeavor  to 
redresB  them, 


This  speech  was  rendered  inaudible  by  ^vage  cries,  an 
a  triple  discharge  convinced  the  colonists  Ihat  the  soldi 
were  resolved  to  risk  aU,  in  order  to  give  vtent  to  theuy' 
sions." 

."Venison  stomach!'*  said  Grosbjjc,  «I  fL  str3|<<k.» 

John  de  Ganay  turned  about.     I  ' 

"The  ruffians  have  shipped  me  foyyinity.-Adieu, 
monseigneur  I-Let  there  be  another  ^th  for  this-" 

"One  kille'd,"  murmured  Malip^eux  between  his  teeth. 

"By  the  trident  of  Neptunell  will  avenge  him,  yes,  in- 
deed " 

A  loud  voice,  foUoFbd  by  two  discharges  of  musketry, 
the  one  from  the  .rforth,  the  other  from  the  south  of  the 
camp;,  cut  shoK  the  soliloquy  of  the  sailor. 

"Theyhaye  formed  a  i^an,"  said  the  viscount  coolly.  <'It 
is  not  diff^Jt  to  resist  them;  but  we  must  try  to  seize 
their  chiefs.    This  Pierre  - -'* 

"Pierre,  yes,  monseigneur,  he  alone  has  been  able  to  ex- 
cite  them  to  an  attack  like  this." 

"Very  well.  Take  five  men  with  you;  I  wiU  take  an 
equal  number,  and  we  wiU  go  out.  The  others  will  keep 
guard."  ' 


posQ 


^^iet.7w  itjimria  in  rather,  TnaiBlerryou"wonId-^ 


*.'/: 


•:^S^r''^':.f 


^ 


"  No  reply !  go,  and  do  quick  1'* 

Philip  Francoeur  went  in  haste. 

The  viscount  called.  Immediately  five  of  the  most  robust, 
and  best  armed  of  the  convicts  were  by  his  side. 

"You  will  follow  me,"  said  he,  "and,  let  what  may 
happen,  make  no  use  of  your  arms  except  in  a  case  of  ab- 
solute necessity.  Remember  that  it  is  not  enemies,  but 
misguided  brothers  in  misfortime  we  have  to  combat." 

Philip  Francceur,  and  five  other  men,  having  joined 
them,  they  marched  out  of  the  intrenchment  in  good  order, 
and  notwithstanding  the  incessant  fire  of  the  soldiers,  pro- 
ceeded towards  the  wood. 

^oon  the  assailed  and  assailants  were  able  to  see  each 
other. 

Finding  himself  discovered,  the  chfef  of  the  insurgents 
resolved  to  sell  his  life  at  the  dearest  possible  rate. 

"  Surrender,  and  you  will  be  pardoned  I"  cried  John  de 
Ganay. 

"  Death  to  the  favorites !"  replied  Pierre. 

He  covered  the  viscount  with  his  musket,  and  fired;  the 
ball  whistled  by  the  ear  of  the  equerry,  but  without  touch- 
ing him. 

This  was  the  signal  for  the  engagement. 

The  colonists,  furious,  fired  in  turn  without  waiting  for 
drders.  The  soldiers  responded,  and  several  fell  on  both 
Bides. 

Pierre,  fearing  that  his  troop  could  not  be  strong  enough, 
whistled,  in  order  to  raily  ^e  two  detachments  which  he 


-f  '■ 


.',^.' 


**^h    v'^i*.-?,   X'vV- 


'■'^   "*rjt-'''V^ ^ 


tVi 


■•"'^f»w^-f^-' 


'**_  >  .''?i^''''  '  *'i  ic   v'^■ 


%'^('' 


S41 


had  ordered  to  ftttnclc  the  camp  in  flank.  Philip  FranccBur 
oomprehenUed  of  what  importance  it  would.be  to  prevent 
this  movement.  With  his  five  men  he  ^jill^im'self  in 
front  of  the  Itahan  Ludovico  Ruggi,  and^^^^km  vig- 
orously. Having  attained  the  brhik  of  th|^^M|eized 
him  by  the  arm,  and  tried  to  make  him  a.^^^p[ui  the 
Italian  was  as  supple,  as  Malificieux  Was  f  omFor  some 
minutes  he  defied  all  the  efibrts  of  the  saUor  to  throw  him. 
%      "  Sun-ender !»  said  he. 

"I  am  choking,"  stammered  Ludovico. 

"  Give  me  your  word  that  you  will  obey  mo,  and  I  will 
;give  you  mercy." 

"I  swear  by  aU  the  holy  reUes,"  replied  thi  ItaUan. 
Philip  Francoeur,  not  doubfing  the  loyalty  of  this  oath, 
withdrew  his  knee,  but  at  the  s^me  moment  Ri^^i  drew 
from  his  breast  a  long  stUletto,  leaped  at  the  sailor,  and  was 
going  to  assassinate  him,  when  a  report  was  heard. 
The  ItaUan  turned  about  two  or  three  times,  and  fell. 
The  struggle  continued  fierce,  where  Philip  had  left  the 
viscount.    He  now  ran.to  him.    The  aurora  borealis  which 
had  afforded  abundant  light  for  some  time,  was  now  ex- 
tinguished, and  darkness  resumed  its  empire. 

When  Malificieux  re-appeared  in  the  meWe,  he  perceived 
an  individual  stooped  behind  a  pine,  who,  with  a  musket  at 
his  shoulder,  and  his  finger  on  the  trigger,  was  taking  aim 
at  John  de  Ganay.  To  precipitate  himself  on  this  indivi- 
dual,  and  to  strike  the  weapon  violently,  was  but  the  worfc 
^MfiQond  for  thftsailortJbu^tb^^an  weirto^andPh%  - 
FrancoBur  received  the  ball  in  hia  thigh. 


.^l^^^^i^^^^i^'>hiMl^^^yLr^.^. . 


«^^('S«■'><  - 


r.(v 


J^' 


fet"« 


'    242 

Exasperated  at  this,  the  colonists  rushed  on  the  sailors, 
who  commenced  to  ^fly  in  all  directions.  A  quarter  of  an 
hour  after,  they  were  entirely  dispersed. 

The  revolt  being  suppressed,  the  visQount  called  for 
torches,  and  then  proceeded  to  examine  the  losses.  Hap- 
pily, they  were  not  considerable.  Two  colonists  and  two 
soldiers  remained  on  the  field  of  battle.  The  former  had 
besides  four  woimded,  more  or  less  seriously ;  the  latter  had 
Carried  away  theirs.  The  victims  were  transferred  to  the 
camp,  some  to  receive  the  care  which  their  condition  re- 
quired, the  others  to  a  common  sepulchre. 

Thesi^  duties  accomplished,  the  viscount  posted  sentinels 
f^anMgtf'i^e  oapiip,  and,  before  retii-ing,  wished  to  re-assure 
JjiBwql|teriou8  protegee. 

^%  day  was  dawning. 

John  hxmd  Maleficieux  extended  across  the  door  of  the 
cabin.'     '« 

"  What  arg"  you  doing  here  ?"  asked  Jojin.        " 

"  Master,  I  am  on  guard." 

"  But  your  wound  ?" 

.;     "It  is  nothing.    Thpse  who  brought  me  here  wanted  to 
bring  me  to  the  hospital,  but—" 

Philip  put  his  finger  oh,  his  lip,  and  laughed. 

"Generous  friend!"  exdaimed  the  viscount  with  sincere 
emotion ;  "  oh,  I  will  nevdr  t(«rget  the  nobleness  of  your 
heai-fr!"  # 


I 


(wVa  - 


"Do  ndt  tKni  ofme,  masteh  but  ente^^ 


hViX .'  -ite^ 


fea:it}lSiJ!&^£^/AJVJ^i!Liiii:.9'AM.i 


i 


ri'T.^v 


243 


John  de  Ganay  opened  the  wicker  door,  and  immediately 
a  tremulous  exclamation  darted  from  his  lips.    • 
Guyonne  had  disappeared!  \ 


iti!»J'?is'/ .;  ^  U«r_  i-*  in  .:>  :^  ■-  > 


■■^■ 


.  jV- 


not 
ker- 
The 

BgU- 

fast 
rhis 
ase, 
that 
ling 
uns 
sit- 
the 

rior 


f{>   f-t'jTVT'*      ^ 


\k 


\^ 


245 


# 


When  the  flame  of  the  sticks  began^  grow  pie  before 
the  light  of  day,  the  young  woman  opened  her  eyes. 

Philip,  who  had  been  watching  her,  immediately  ap- 
proached  her.  ^' 

"I  am  well,"  said  Guyonne,  divining  that  ho  went  to  in* 
form  himself  in  regard  to  her  health. 
«'  And  your  limbs  ?"  *  ^* 

« A  little  fatigued,"  said  she,  "but  I  can  walk  and— 
monseigneur — "  *  • 

"Noble  viscount;  he  is  cruelly  charged f^'^  said  Philip, 
with  emotion. 

"Ah !  he  is  aUve !"  exclaimed  Gnyonne,  with  transport. 

^  He  is  alive.  Yes ;  but  sorrow  and  privations— Ah  I  sad 
events  have  passed  since  that  night— and  you  ?" 

Guyonne  made  no  reply;  she  prayed  mentally.   * 

The  sailor,  fearing  to  interrupt  the  pious  hymn  wh|^ 
the  young  girl  offered  from  her  heart  to  the  throne  of  the 

Eternal,  discreetly  retired.  **  * 

*  ♦'- 

When  he  returned  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  Chiyonne 
was  up. 

"We  are  going  to  breakfast,"  said  Philip,  gayly,  "and 
then,  if  you  feel  strong  enough,  we  will  set  out  for  the 
camp.    The  viscount  will  be  so  happy " 

Philip  ended  this  phrase  with  a  significant  gknce  at 
Guyonne,  who  blushed.  ' 


I 


'  > 


»•'»* 


■TOxrorme  prel(3n^edUuyonne ;  but  a  sentiment  of  cxqui- 
site  deUcacy  prevented  him  from  showing  the  young  gii'I, 


A    *v 


246 

even  under  such  circumstances,  that  he  possessed  that 
knowledge.  -Guyonne,  on  her  part,  understood  very  well 
that  her  secret  was  no  longer  such  to  FFuncceur,  but  her 
modesty  prevented  her  from  feminizing  her  person.  It 
seemed  that  a  tacit  understanding  guided  the^e  two  beings, 
so  noble,  so  pure,  so  worthy  of  being  uniteciby  the  ties  of 
a  filial  and  paternal  tenderness. 

♦  *  *  *  • 

At  all  events  MaliJiSieux  had  served  the  breakfast  on  a 
wooden  bench.  '  \  , .      . 

It  was  a  frugal  meal :  some  maise  soup,  and  some  fish, 
broiled  on  tlie  coals.  But  hunger  seasoned  itj  and  the 
guests  did  it  honor. 

When  they  had  done,  Philip  remarked :  • 

"Now,  we  are  able  to  navigate  towards  the  camp." 

"  Oh,  yes,  yes !  let  us  start,"  replied  she  eagerly. 

-"  On«*ioment,  one  moment  I  Before  sailing  it  is  neces- 
sary to  take  in  ballast,  yes,  indeed,  by  the  trident  of  Nep- 
tune!    Come,  take  a  mouthful  R' 

Guyonne  made  a  gesture  of  refusal.  I 

*'  Drinl^,  drink !"  insisted  the  sailor.  «  We  have  twelve 
full  knot!  to  sail,  and  a  drop  of  this  liquor 

"No,  I  thank  you." 

"It  will  do  you  no  harm;  on  the  contrary,  yes,  indeed.— 
It  is  a  distillation  of  our  invention,  you  see,  my  boy  I  Just 
a  small  drop !"  > 

Much  more  to  avoid  disobliging  Mm,  thaiLon  account  of. 


^aste  she  had  for  it,  the  young  girl  accepted.   She  con- 


o; 


s^.?:-iiL'f^'i" 


-iL..,. 


f    -      ■*  1^  -*« 


'k-  '*a.i 


<.  f' 


f 


247 


tented  herself  with  moistening  her  lips  with  the  gourd 
which  Philip  handed  her.,  Walificieux  swallowed  three  or 
four  mouthfuUs,  smacked  his  lips,  and  taking  two  clubs 
from  the  corner  of'the  cabin : 

ft 

"Let  us  weigh  anchor,"  said  he,  presenting  one  of  the 
sticks  to  Guyonne.  -  .  ,  -        ,     ' 

He  opened  the  door,  and  a  flood  of  dazzling  light  invaded 
the  hut. 


\ 


"  Let  you  walk  in  front  ?"  saixi  thilip.    ^ 


/'What?"  '  . 

"By  the  star-board!  you  don't  know  all  the  devilish 
tricks  these  damned  soldiers  have  played  on  us.  Ah!  if 
they  could  prevent  the  colonists  from  fishino- ^" 

While  making  this  remark,  he  heaped  up  the  snow  be- 
fore the  cabin,  went  on  the  roof,  covered  the  chimney-hole 
with  a  plate  of  ice,  and  covered  the  ice,  .in  turi^  with  snpw, 
so  that,  at  a  distance,  the  hut  ,^ad  tho  <to|>iearanco  of  a 
large  heap  of  ice,  massed  by  the  wind;' . 

After  he  had  finislied  it,  he  rejoined  the  young  girh  who   ' 
looked  mournfully  at  the  sea.  ^^ 

'4  What  is  the  biatter  with  my  ohp?"  asked  he,  seeing 
that  her  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

"  Oh,  good  Philip,  I  am  grieved,'^  replied  she  in  broken 
accents.  . 

"  Come,"  said  the  sailol;  in  a  tone  of  sympathy  which 
toucliGd  her  .to  i^4rearr,  "yott  will  tdi  me  ycrnftroiibleg^ 
on  the  way,  and  this  will  console  you." 


<* 


«*^< 


»i. 


f      '         "^  ^J.  j-i'ja  iik    •       > 


m     •-.■ 


Sh*disengftg!B(l  herseff  from  her  pai^  reverf^^^  fol- 

■qupisebl^.    IntiRii 
scted  Kis  golden  ra^B. 
•andbe^ 'i>f  the  treeS.    I£ 
'April  days,  full  of 


xibi&i^ilence,  aS  absorbed  in 

T^e  way  tbe^passed  was  yery  difficult,  full  of  hills  and 
iaUttws,  forraei^i  fragments  of  ice.    But  when  they  bad 
l^pved  St  little  foRn  the  sea-shore,  the  route  became  more  ' 
pi^i^'^B.  •  Then  JPIiilip  remarked,  shaking  his  head: 
.«p|^eit'8  6go!»  !  '■ 

"^ejiears  I"  repeated  she,  like  an  echo. 

« Ah  Itbat  cursed  ChedoteH"         ;  '  '  \ 

^    Hfce  ^Qiing  girl  grew  pale.  ^,      , 

"If  ^er  I  lay  my  grapple  upon  him 

"  Profcaibjy  the  Castor  has  been  wrecked 

"  Wrecked  ?  no ;"  said  Philip  in  a  mournful  tone ;  "  there 
is  sealing  that  tells  me  that."  '      . 

"BnPenough.    By  the  trident  of  Neptune,  ]the  carcass 
ofMalificieux  is  still  solid,  yes,  indeed  1"       • 

"My  God,  what  an  existea||yFor  monreigneur,  the  vj 
count  I"  murmured  the  yowh^Bm 

•  "An  existence  whi^h  has  blanched  art'd  bent  him  like 
old  man,"  flaid  |^lip  sadly^    "Brave  young  man,  he  has 
borne   aH— hunger,  Uiirst,    cold,    nakednesd,  ^nd   with- 


w 


I « 


^ 


.     V 


i^ 


.^'i^Gi^v^^^^i^^^TMi 


iuuMf^' 


?s  ' 


249 


%,l|^rmnr.     He  has  always  encouraged  us ;  he 

younjT  man !"   ."  ' 

'm  sailor  wiped  away  a  tear  with  the  cuff  of  his 

,  -eoat:^^  -     .  •  .  ■ 

m  ...  -- 

"And  you?"  said  he  abruptly,  ia  order  to  put  an  end 
to  th^e  painful  souvenirs. 

"  Me !»  .said  she,  with  the  tone  of  one  inten-upted  in  the 
middle  of  a  profound  preoccupation. 

"Did  you  not  disappear  in  the  middle  of  the  night  of 
the  revolt  of  the  soldiers?" 

"The  same  night!"  ^  ^# 

.  "And  how?"  ^-        ' 

"  You  remember,"  said  Guyonne, «'  that  I  was  sick  ?" 
"  Yes,  very  weU  j  you  had  fever-in  consequence  of-" 
"  The  fall  I  had  received  whi^h  l|^oke  my  leg.'^"' 
"True,  I  remember  it  as  I  do  yesterday." 
"Monscigneur  l,ad  the  kindness  to  come  W  visit  me," 
continued  Guyonne,  lowering  her  eyes. 
The  sailor  smUed  with  a  knowing  look. 

"And  .then,"  pursued  jaiM44l>fen  AMjil^^i**,-       tm 
y      ,    F">out^«^^jiuiv^jp$g3^u  (Wnjffm,  trying  'To 

ai-ms!' and  I  heard  repor^ muskets."  4"    """^ 


-J-v      1 


>1 


^?v 


■"«; 


"Th^  brigands!  T|py  wished  til)  «^t  our  throats !'^^    ' 
"While  I  Ustened,  without  bein^  able  to  movefthe     V 
Mute — "   '    m  W 

■  y  The  Mute  I   Who  is  that  ?"  A      'f*  "  % 

— ^\13uj  maa  vvW  J»d  prefvroi»lyi5a?gdTny1ffl^ 


't)R». 


«Ah»  yes!  that  sort  of 


lat  kUled  Bme-tout'*  ^  ^  -^t     .  *^    1 


1  isJL    il..  _„ 


««!•, 


.  'f^ti^yiSi.: 


S.  / 


I*         / 


i^ 


250 


-.y 


n 


/ 


"I  don'^inow,"  said  Guyonne,  "but- 

"By  the  tiident  of  Neptune !  that  devil  of  a  Camus,  as 
Nabot  called  him,  stabbed  him  to  the  heart,  and  the 
convjcts  would  have  hanged  him  for  it,  but  Monseigneur 
de  6anay .    But  you  were  saying  ?"    ' 

y  "The  Mute  entered  the  cabin  where  I  was  sleeping.  On 
seeing  me,  the  poor  man  threw  hfhiself  on  his  knees,  weep- 
ing and  laughing  in  turn,  like  a  fool,  making  signs  to  me, 
and »       ,  ; 

«And«?"      -                      '      I     ' 
"  Kissing  my  hands !" 
"Ah,  the  scoundrel !"  exclaimed  Philip. 
,  "And,"  continued  she,  "he  became  more  sane,  opened 
the  door,  looked  outside,  reC^med  to  me,  rolled  me  in  the 
^  bed-clothes,  put  me  on  his  shoulder " 

"Yes,  .truly!"  said  Malificieux.       . 

"  Put  me  on  his  shoulder,  and  began  to  run." 

"So  I  had  suspected^"  s^id  Philip',  beating  his  forehead. 

"  It  was  impossible  for  m6  to  resist.  An  overwhelming 
torpor  paralyzed  all  my  movements  ;•'  I  had  scarcely  any 
consciousness  of  'ttrhat  had  happened  to  me.  The  Mute 
proceeded  on  to  the  sea-shore.  ITiere  he  put-  me  into  a 
little  skiff,  and  commenced  to  row,  uttering  a  strange  sort 
of  cry,  such  as  I  had  heard  him  make,  when  he  wa&  sue- 
cessiul  in  hiinting,  or  fishing." 

"  But/ who  was  this  man  ?"  inquired  Philip. 

"  He  was  my  father  I"  replied  Guyonne  with  emotion. 


^^ 


"Yourfetherl" 


V 


,,,  "iTl^'V' 


aus,  as 
d  the 
igneur  , 


J.   On 


weep- 
;o  me, 


pened 
Q  the 


'^. 


head. 

ming 
r  any 
Mute 
nto  a 
I  sort 

kSUC- 


n. 


1     ^w^  1  --^^ 


251 


"Ah,  I  can  not  doubt  it  any  longer !   He  had  a  mark  on 
his  breast  which  I  happened  to  see  one  day—" 
She  burst  into  tears. 

"mat!"  .aid  Malificieu^   ^hen  .he  was  somewhat 
calmed. 

Guyonne  resumed  in  a  voice,  broken  hj  sobs. 

"Had  been  shipwrecked;  he  was  supposed  to  be  dead. 

My  mother  married  again;  but  it  seems,  he  succeeded  in 

.       reachmg  the  Isle  of  Sable,  where  the  absence  of  aU  com- 

panions  doubtless  made  him  mute,  and  at  length  an  idiot.'> 

^     "It  is  very  strange-very  strange—What  has  become* 
of  him?"  -        ^ 

"He  is  dead!" 
"Dead!" 

"Yes,  alas  I  but  let  me  finish  my  narrative." 
"Whether  it  was  that  my  fever  increased,  or  that  my 
fatigue  overcame  my  resolution  to  remain  awake  until  I 
saw  where  he  brought  me,  I  feU  asleep.    When  I  awoke, 
he  was  at  my  side,  seeming  to  Wait  until  I  opened  my  eyes 
to  give  me  a  drink.    I  was  stretched  on  the  grass,  a  large' 
bush  serving  to  protect  us  from  the  heat  of  the  sun.    On 
reflection,  I  thought  the  poor  lunatic  had  brought  me  to 
another  part  of  the  Isle  of  Sable.    In  order  to  be  sure  I 
made  signs  to  ^,  which  he^d  not  miderstand,  or.  if  L 
^      did,  he  pretended  not^' 

"He  wa^nsane  ?"  saidlilsj^ilor. 
"Yes,  alls!  he  had  lost  /is  reason.    He  promptly  con 
£__ltj:u|Led  a  cabm  pfinranch*!  it  was^ia^^^^bib  ^^^p^ 


'» 


*i: 


¥ 


five  Years  I" 


9 


*'**.« 


ii."  :'^,-*"^j[iI^  i&f i^i 


■■•muin,nmtnmiirrf.jfm:^am, 


'^k 


mi* 


( 


-s^'^^ 


y-. 


252 


*'  But  where  were  you  ?** 

"I  don't  know.  When  my  health 
myself  of  his  ^li^ence  one  morning,  to  examine  the  place, 
and  then  I  fe|k|ji>nvinced  that  we  must  have  left  the  Isle 
of  Sable.  The;,p»ce  we  were  in  was  an  islet  of  at  most  a 
league  in  cU-ci|^erence.  This  discovery  frightened  mo 
very  much.  I^searched  for  the  skiff  that  had  brought  us ; 
but,  withoutjoubt,  he  had  sunk  it,  for  I  could  see  no  trace' 
of  it."  „  /  - 

Guyonne  was  sHent^^  and  PhiUp  regarded  ^r  with  pro- 
found surprise.  ' 

In  a  moment  she  resumed : 

"Oh,  if^  only  kne%  Philip,  how  kind  and  devoted  ho 
was  aiwaysTto  me,  althouglf^e  knew  nothing  of  me.  I  was 
his  idol.    When  he  saw  me  grieved,  he  |hrew  himself  at 
my  feet,.and  wept;  ^hen,  sometime|f.J  "las  gay,hej^as 
full  of  joy.  ♦  ♦  Poor  ^^i^fortu^e,  he.perished  fer  me!  i|s 
life  was  sacrificed  to  8av6  ^^uAg  the  five  years  I 
passed  with  him  in  that  islit,  he  never  manifested  ill-humor.     . 
— He'^d  not  like  to  see  m^  wo^||oarcely  wo^d  he.por*^^ 
mit  me  to  ac^mpany  him  huntip^*  or  fishings  feor  ^te, 
dear,  bel^^ed  fkther!  for  he  was  my  father,  I  any|ji|^^|iat  ' 
mark  on  hi&  -breast  I  remember  wdU.   M^ibd^e  mor- 
cy^n  his  soulf    When  I  went  to  my  d^P^nfhe  knelt 
near  me,  m^^^ee&^d  also  to'^adaress  S^ invocation  to 
heaven '' " 


"  Wif|i  a  strange  adventure !»  said  the  sailor.    "  And 
your  sublistencfe  ?"  added  he. 

"Oh,  he  provided  it  in  abund^ce.    The  islet  is  fuU  of 

-possessed  eitraordiBaaT- skiitj  ij^— 


,^ 


tsT 


v-Bl 


&*ai|»  .<',  -, 


.^ 


f^ 


!,r 


^^^^^^W^W-v'P 


S68 


m:' 


■-?^:7--;:fc'S^Sw 


had  made  a  bow,  and  rarely  did  his  arrows  miss  their  ob- 
ject."  "  _ 

"B^i| the  winter?" 

"We  lived  on  smoked  fish.  I  made  my  clothing  of  seal 
8lcms.  As  to  his,  he  made  them  Iflmself,  without  wisliing 
that  I  would  put  a  hand  on  them."  •  . 

'       "  ^'^  hV^'fuse  to  take  you  b^ck  to  the  Isle  of  ^able  ?" 

"Very  often,  you  will  understand,  I  made  known  to 
him  that  desire;  but  then  he  sobbed,  and  his  teafs  went  to 
myhea^t " 

•  "  ^^^^^"^^®  situation !''  said  the  sailor  with  emo-  • 

"Oh,  I  hav||ufferel  a  great  deal;  but  however  painful 
my  sufrering#-me  during  these  long  d^s  of  mysery  and 
misfortune,  they  wef^t  equal  to  those  which  I  felt  when  I 
saw  him  disappear  be^ath  the  waves." 

"  Then  he  drowned  himself?" 

"  Yesterday  morning  we  went  to  fish  on  the  ice-bank,  at 
the  southern  shore  of  the  islet.  While  we  we^'e  fishing,  an 
^  enormous  bear  apprijached  us.  My  father  precipitated  him- 
self  before  the  animal,  who  caught  him  between  his  paws,  and 
was  crushing  him  in  his  embrace,  when  I  ran  to  his  assist- 
ance. At  this  moment  the  ice  broke  under  his  foot,  and 
the  unfortunate  w^s  eqgulfed  in  the  hole  with  the  mon-' 
ster." 

"But  you?" 

"By  chance  I  found  myself  on  the  detached  ice,"  replied 
Guyonne,  with  the  tears  in  her  eyes.  The  bear  returned  to 
J^^""''^^"^'  ^5,l^g.°l^Q^^^'<^s  the  piece  of  jop,  and  a 


ed  to  get  up  on  it  j  I  killed  him  with  a  pike,  but  I  fell  my- 


self  into  tho  Bca.    It  was  with  great  difficulty  that  I  suo- 
ceeded  in  regaining  tho  ice." 

•  "  Poor,  dear  child !"  exclaimed  Philip,  pressing  the  young 
girl  to  his  breast. 


t 


N 


#.- 


«^aji^: 


ir  .-,   -, 


f'^Z"'^.' 


"HJ„ 


8U0- 


)ung 


v^ 


CHAPTER  XVin. 


#■■ 


PHILIP    Aig^D     qUIYONNE.       ^ 

Forgetting  her  ro/e  for  |he  moment,  Guyonno  threw  - 
herself  on  the  neck  of  the  sailor,  and  embraced  him  ten- 
derly. .  .       ,  . 

"Dear  child,"  resumed  Philip,  "oh,  I  am  as  happy  to 
have  found  you,  as  if  you  were  my  owa  daughter.  But 
teU.me,  how  it  is  that  you  happened  to  be  included  in. the 
category  of  the  transports  ?'/ 

The  young  girl  related  her  history. 

"  Oh,  it  is  noble,  too  noble !"  exclaimed  Malificieux,  in 
listening  to  the  narrative  of  that  adnMM^^votion  !"  ' 

"But,  holy  Virgin,  I  only  did  i}?.4u£y,'»  replied  Gu- 
yonne  with  charming  candor.  "  You  don't  know  how 
much  my  step-father  loved  his  son.  If  he  had  been  wrested 
from  him,  he  wottld  have  died  of  grief.  And  besides  that, 
poor  Yvon  was  not  capable  of  enduring  the  fatigues  and 
and  privations  of  colonial.lifet    ^on  the  cor 


Ky^Mm^i 


m:i::^t.y 


/ 


y*i}*  ^--f,^  ^'.i^^'^'C.J'fSi^^^^^ 


P^.j^f-ws. -'•"', 


.it->f'  ^ 


■^t.^'^  -^/If:  '-'-^Pff^Jf ^m^.. 


Li     ' 


|i". 


256 

turally  strong ;  my  depavtnve  could  oniy  cause  temporary 
affliction  to  old  Porrin.     You  see  then    that  my  conduct 
has  been  simple.    Had  you  been  in  my  place,  would  you 
,not  liavc  don\;  as  much,  Philip  ?'» 

"I,  I!"  said  Malificicux,  covering  her  with  caresses   "I 

am  not  quite  sure  about  tliat.     So at  all  events  that 

•  does  not  provent-Idid  not  believe,  to  tell  you  the  truth, 
that  there  was  so  much  virtue  under  a  petticoat.  But  does 
Monseigneur  de  Ganay  know  all  this  ?"  "     -   - 

"Oh,"  exclaimed  .the  youiig  girl  with  a  supplicatin<r 
gesture,  » I  beg  of  you,. Philip,  that  he  will  remain  ignorant 
of  it  for  everl"  '  .    <,  -  , 

^  "That  he  remain  igno^nt  of  it!    Why,  my  child  ?" 

*'Why?»  said  she,  fixing  on  Malificieux  her  beautiful 
eyes,  moistened.. with  tears: 

"  Is  not  the  action  you  have  accomplished,  hei-pic,  as  our, 
-      late  friend  Grosbec  would  sav."  ,       -       ^ 

ilMf      "  But  I  have  told  *'  falsehood  to  monseigneur;  it  is  a  ■ 
'w  great  sm!"  •  y  ,-^ 

Philip  smiled.  I  '  ■*'         " 

"Woii?«J  tha^  svch  -sins   were  committed  often,   noble, 
girl !     There  would  be  fewer  miscreants  under  the  cano],y  •    ' 
of  heaven;  yes,  indeed—Besides,  Guyonne,"  added  he  ia.     ' 
a  serious  Air,  «  you  are,  perhaps,  not  what  you  believe  youf. 
self  to  be."  '^  ■  , 

"What?"  said  the  youuggidwflh  surprise.  "    * 

'^  Well,  well;  I  know  what  I.say.  Malificieux  has  a  good 
eye,  good  nose,  good  ears." 


■^ 


.  / 


''*'^' 


"\. 


267         .  *        »    ' 

Tlie  sister  of  Yvon  gave  a  look  at  the  sailor  which  was 
full  of  curiosity.  .  *■ 

"Ah  !»  said  he  joyously,  "I  have  jMit  a  flea  in  your  ear, 
Demoiselle  Guyonne.    He !  he  I    By  the  arrows  of  Cupid, 
how  these  large  eyes  do  sparkle  on  rite.]  „.If  my  good 
mother  had  only  conceived,, and  brought  m^Uo  the  world . 
some  twenty-five  years  later ;  he,  he !"  ' 

"You  naughty  man!  then  you  would  not  have  been 
here,  and  poor  Guyonne  had  succumbed,"  replied  she,  par- 
ticipating in  the  gayety  ofher  companion. 

"By  fny  faith,' that's"  true,"  said  Philip  surprised  at  an 
observa4ion  which  seemed  to  hhn  very  profound. 

^  After  thefll  remains,  tU«y  walked  along  some  time.^vith- 
ont^word.  Guyonne  was  a  woman  ^t  heart,  after  all; 
\andthe^^onfidence  of  Mjflificicux  really  put  a  flea  inher 
6ar,  accor^jjj^fi  the  phraseology  of  tlie  latter.  Re-calling 
h(H-  conversa^^ftvith  Viscount  de  Ganay,  an  instant  before 
the  revolt  had  given  an  opportunity  for  her  abduction, -^she 
suspected  a  mystery.  This  is  what  the  young  woi#h 
wished^tohear  nwre  about,  but  which  she  could  not  rescilve. 
The  saflor  eyed  her  waggishly,  but  whether  it  was  that  he 
did^ot  wish  to  fepeak,  or  that  he  was  afraid,  he  had  already  - 
said  too  much,  he  was  |ilent. 

Both  procee'aed  along  the  sea-shore.  A  chain  of  ice-hills, 
formed  on  the  beach,  prev-ented  them  from  seeing  the  At-, 
lantic.     Coming  to  a  Uttle  bay,  they  had  tp  make  a  sudden 
halt.  •        . 

,**i)/aWe/"  exclaimed  Malificieux,  exatniniijg  with  bis 
feye  th^  obstacle  before  which  they  had  ariived.    ^'•^ia^h  ! 


■wfi' 


H' 


\   ^% 


3^i^Mfaai-^^^it!w£VTi-^  / -'! 


->!^- 


^^ 


w 


258  r- 

here  is  a  citadel  ^hioh  it  does  not  seem  easy  to  storm.    A 
good  8,gn,  however,  a  good  sign !     By  the  trid.nt  of  Ner>. 
tune,  1  much  prefer  the.e  icy  rocks  to  white  frost.     This 
at  feast,  indicates  that  ^lonsieur,  Winter  makes  a  grimace' 
at  Monsieur  Spring  who  responds  with  contempt.     Com^ 
y  von,  give  me  your  hand,  and  to  the  .^sgault !"  ,        " 

«0h,"  said  Guyonne,  "thank  you;  I  ^iU  get  up  aJone." 
"Forward I  then." 

They  commenced  to  ascend,  and  aiding  themselves  with 
thexr  pikes,  their  hands,  and  their  knees.     But  the  ascent 
^as  BtiU  more  difficult  than  the  sailor  had  supposed.     The 
blocks  of  ice  had  been  precipitated  peUmell  on  each  pther. 
Guyone  had  occasionally  to  have  recourse  to  her 
companion,  and  the  latter,  although  he  did  not  like  to  ask 
the  assistance  of  the  yoUlig- gid,  was  equally  obliged  to 
claim  her  services  on  more  than  one  occasion.     Finally 
they  reached  a  sort  of  aufractuosity,  situated  nearly  at  the 
top  of  the  ice-berg  Alps.      There  tbey  halted  to  rest.    In 
order  to  reach  tlie  top,  they  had  only  to  scale  an  enormous 
iceberg,  standing  perpendicularly  on  it^flank.      But  while 
•Mahficieux  borrowed  philosophically  from  his  gourd  a  dose 
of  vigor  the  ice  broke  under  the  feet  of  our  travellers,  and 
they  fell  mto  a  puddle. 

Guyonne  uttered  a  cry  of  fright.  But  Philip,  although 
surpnsed  by  the  suddenness  of  the  movement,  did  noMose 
his  presence  of  mind.  In  his  M  he  managed  to  cling  to 
the  brink  of  the  excavation,  afid  thanks  to  his  hairy  gloves 
he  was  able  to  sustain  himself  to  calculate  the  size  of  the' 
orifice.    Remarking  that  it  was  narrow,  lik^  the  tunnel  of 


f     1  i|^^--^-s,l  _'•!  -'l 


^  ^  -tj-'^U-* 


»Jjj-f  iX't,  "11    *■«?! 


>  storm.  A 
Qnt  of  Xep- 
i'ost.  Tliis, 
s  a  grimace 
pt.     Come, 

up  alone." 

selves  with 
the  ascent 
sed.     The 
;ach  pther. 
se  to  her 
like  to  ask 
obliged  to 
Finally, 
lily  at  the 
rest.     In 
enormous 
Sut  while 
rd  a  dose 
lle^-s,  and 

although 

not»Iose 

cling  to 
J  gloves, 
e  of  the 
unnel  of 


269 

a  chimney  he  bent  himself  to  the  opposite  side,  drew  out 
lus  kmfe,  fastened  it  between  the  two  icebergs,  set  his  foot 
on  the  handle,  and  jumped  out  of  the  well. 

He  scarcely  occupied  a  tninute  in  thus  raisin<.  him- 
self.  -  *^ 

Guyoilne  remained.  '^ 

*■  •  ,  \ 

Philip  immediately  stretched  at  full  length  on  the  ice 
and  looking  down  into  the  orifice,  saw.the  youn<.  girl     She' 
was  more  than  ten  feet  below  him.    But  she  wis  standing 
and  spoke  to  him;  this  made  him  breathe  easier. 

"The  two  pikes  are  near  you,  are  they  not?"  asked 
he. 

"  Here  they  are," 

."Fasten  one  of  them  at  the  height  of  your  waist,  the,, 
other  at  the  height  of  your  head;  you  will  stand  on  the 
one,  usmg  the  other  as  a  support  for  your  hands.      Then  I 
will  g,ve  you  my  belt  to  aid  'you  in  getting  up  on  the 
second  pike,  so  that  I  can  give  you  my  hand  and  draw  you 

up."  .;      •' 

"   Guyonne  hastened  to  put  this  plan  in  execution. 

_    It  had  all  the  des.red  success;  the  young  girl  was  soon 

m  the  arms  of  her  friend. 

"Dear  child,  I  hope  >ou  are  not  hurt  ?" 

"No,  t^,  my  brjwe  Philip."  ; 

"  Jiut  thi«  bIoo.J !-  exclaimed  ^e  sailor,  palpitating  with 
|ineasme8»«  _     ^      ■ 


.\ 


fj       -i" Oh,  It  is  nothing!    A  slight  scratch  I  gave  myself 


&*?■ 

■■^-1 


J 


the  cheei 


on 


^  ji^  Mji^t  fi^ 


.  4   -■^      ^       {        f\   «.*'     .  n   VI'*>^i'^<>  •  ■  ^  ^ 


a 


,j^. 


L-*.   o 


260 
Philip  examined  the  wound,  and  found  it  was    but 

Blight.;  \^^  ^ 

"Holy  Patrofless!   how  are  we  to  get  out  of  this?" 
asked  Guyoane. 

The  sailor  reflected  for  a  nAnute. 

*' There  is  but  o|ie  means,"  said  he.  \«I  will  put  my 
;    bapk  against  the  iceberg,  and  you  will  stanclon  my  shoul 
der."  "       '     . 

-     "]6ut^ou,  Philip?" 

"Oh,  never  mind.     Ilave'nt  I  the  foot  of  a  mariner? 
Could  a  cat  pass  where  Malificieux  could  not  ?" 

,      "It  would  puzzle  even  a  cat,"  said  Guyonne,  smiling, 
"to  make  her  way  here.";  ' 

*  *  *  •    *  ♦  ♦ 

"  Ouf !"  criedP  hilip,  in  joining  his  companion.     "If  the 

way  to  Hell  were  as.difficult  as  this,  I  should  grieve  sorely 

for  my  poor  soul."  '     , 

"Oh,  don't  blaspheme,  my  dear  friend;  It  is  bad  to 
make  a  jest  of  sacred  things,"  said  Guyonne,  in  a  tone  of 
gentle  reproach. 

"  You  are  right,"  replied  Philip.  «  But  what  do  you 
expect  ?  We  sea-wolves  havQ  always  a  little  word  to  ^ive 
as  an  excuse  for  a  laugh.     Now  let  us  proceed." 

Tlie  southern  sidfijpf  the  ice-mountain  had  a  declivity 
sufficiently  easy;  and  so  our  heroes  wero  soon  at  the 
base.  '  ^     ,,        ^ 


half 


A  thousand  portholes!"  exclaime^  Phihp,  ia  a  toao 
angi^,  halfsorry-.  „ 


"'  > 


^^:aJ^^ 


"•^ 


'■V>  1'- 


*-.^^ 


'"^'^f^mms' 


n  f^i  n 


J 


'■  it  was    but 
out  of  this  ?" 


will  put  my 
on  my  ghoul 


a  mariner  ? 

)'5 


nne,  smiling. 


3n.     "If  the 
jrieve  sorely    ''' 

ft  13  bad  to 
in  a  tone  of  ^ 

hat  do  you 
'ord  to  ^ive 

a  declivity 
>on  at  the 

I JO  A  tono 

J. 

'■     ".  f 


261 


"Wliat's  the  matter?"    gi 

"By  the  trident  of  Neptune,  my  gourd  remains  in  the 
hole.  There  is  no  longer  any  hope  o^essel  that  has  lost 
Its  rudder.  A  gourd  full  to  the  bn^I  I  have  a  mind  to 
go  in  search  of  it."       * 

"  In  search  of  it !"  "  •-  ' 

"It  was  quite  full,  repeated  the  saflor,  piteously,  looking, 
anxiously  at  the.  ice-hill."  ^  -  -  '        -        ° 

"  But  Philip,  you  will  not  be  gujlty  of  such  folly." 
"In  fact,"  said  he,  recollectingj^mso^f,  "it  is  bi^t  mis- 
laid  for  the  present.  When  the  sno.y  thaws,  I  can  g,t  it. 
Yes,  indeed!  Let  us  proceed.  It  wti's  a  ,^'m,^s  goufd, 
nevertheless.  I  Would  not  have  changed  ft  for  ten  ingots 
of  silver."  ,  *  ,■ 

"I  believe  you,*indeed,"  retorted  Guyonne, ' Emilin<.. 
"What  use  would  ten  ingots  even  of  gold,  he  to  you 
here?" 

-  .  ■• ,         . '     '"        '  ** 

"She  has  the   wit  of  a  demoa," '  whispered    Philip. 
•  Then  he  added  in  a  loud  tone :  -  ,        -      ' 

"We  are  drawing  near,  Yvon.     No  one  but  kons^- 

neur  de  Ganay,  you,  and  I,  should  know You  undel 

stand,  my  child  ?" 

"Oh,  yes,^'  exclaimed  Guyonne,  thanking  l^im  with  her   • 
looks.  ,       '  , 

"Be|^e  entering  the  camp*  you  will  halt  until  I  go  and 
give  word  to  the  viscount." '.  ►  , 

"But,"  said  the  young  girl,  «are  yoii  all  reunitcid?" 
"  No,  alas ! .  that  mis)wabl6  Pierre  has  been  t^  us  a  fije- 
brabd  of  distjQrd^and^nmstrumbnt  of  evil..    It  was  at  his 


/ 


t 


^: 


^ 

"fflHi^Baii] 

RSi 

'     i' 

fc , 

A 

7 

?tS|i^5^ 

■■^^ 

> 

i' 


/ 


,262  ■ 

instigatwn  that  the  sailors  and  the  soldiers  mutinied  for  the 
first  time  in  five  years.     Since  then,  neither  a  community 
of  i^es,  nor  the  efforts  of  Viscount  de  Ganay  have  been 
■^^^bring  them  to  better  sentiments.     I  do  bdieve  that 
M^^^^  Pierre  has  bewitched  thtm.    Twenty  times  we 
a^eea   compelled  to  repel  them  by  force  of  arms; 
enty  times  they  have  endeavored  to  surprise  us. under 
co\3^f  the  night,  and  massacre  u^.   Meantime,  God  knoVj# 
.  if  the  viscount  has  not  beenindulgent  to  those  bandits.    Had  '^ 
It  not  -been  for  him,  all  would  have  died'of  hunger.    All  has 
been  useless.    At  present,  all  that  remains  of  that  cUque, 
are  disseminated  through  the  island,  and  subsist  by  pillag- 
ing the  fruits  of  our  labors.    But  that  P^^rre,  that  Pierre  I 

Ah,  if  ever  I  get  my  hand  on  his  neck » 

^  A  menacing  gesture  completed  the  phrase  of  Mahficieux, 
whose  contracted  features  indicated  a  determined  and  ter- 
rible  anger. 

"But  I  see  the  headquarters,"  resumed  he,  after  some 
minutes.  «Yvon,  let  you  conceal  yourself  behind  these 
pmes,  while  I  go  to- bear  the  news  to  Monseigneur  de 
Ganay." 

Having  affectionately  pressed  the  hand   of  Guyonne, 
PhiUp  Francoeur  disappeared  at  a  rapid  pace. 


•■  \ 


I 


"\' 


w 


nied  for  the 
community 
r  have  been  , 
jeheve  that 
y  times  we 
!  of  arms ; 
5  us. under 
5od  knoVjl 
dits.    Had'' 
'.     All  has 
lat  chque, 
by  pillag- 
at  Pierre  I 

fahficieux, 
d  and  ter- 

fler  some 
ind  these 
gneur  de 


jruyonne, 


.r 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

B^RAGMENTS    OI^    A    JOURNAL. 

VVE    are    m  a    little    quadraffgular    chamber.      This 
chamber    has     an  appearance    more    than     rustic       It 
was  hung  with   speckled  furs,  in   the  middle  of  which 
sparkled  the  silvery  mantle  of  the  fox,  the  buckled  fleece 
of  the  sheep,  the  short  and  lustrous  hair  of  the  seal  and 
the  white  robe  of  the  ermine.    A  plain  linen  cloth,  become 
yellow  by  use,  covered  the  ceiling.     On  the  floor,  instead 
of  a  carpet  there  was  a  mosaic  of  skins.    The  furniture  was 
scarce;  some  wooden  stools,  two  valises,  a  trunk  rudely 
constructed,  and  a  coarse  table,  composed  it.      A  larcre 
mantle-piece  of  pebbles,  not  of  mortar,  embraced  all  one 
6ide  of  the  room.   The  ofjposite  side  was  occupied  by  a  bed 
covered  with  fur  skins,  like  the  walls  and  the  floor.    In  the 
middle  of  one  of  the  other  sides  was  a  window,  glazed 
with  parchment,  instead  of  glass;  and  a  low  door  oppc 
Site 


/ 


..;*■ 


^  ^  ***'  »       .  .  il 


^ 


:;<*■■■ 


- '-.-,1 


r^' 


,      '  ^       .  •  ,  264 

Arms  were  suspended  here  and  there,  or  grouped  in 
bundles. 

A  man  was  seated  near  the  table;  his  logs  were  crossed,     ' 
one  over  the  other;  his  left  el^ow  supported  on  his  thigh, 
and  his  head  sustained  on  the  palm  of  his  hand.    Before 
him  were  spread  various  papers,  ani*  a  i'opy-book,  which^ 
he  turned  over  mechanicafty.      This  man  was  entirely    ' 
clothed  with  fui-s.     A  sword,  with  t'lie  guard  adorned  with 
a  faded  ribbon,  was"  at  his  waist.    Ije  wore  long  hair  and 
long  beard ;  hair  and  beard  wiere  br<^wn,  silken,  and  abund- 
ant.     His  physiognomy  had  a  typLl  beauty.      Visage    ' 
.  bronzed  by  the  heat;  fcatm-es  regulJr,  fine,  the  fel'mj^f 
a  race ;  expression  proud,  but  tinged  with  melancholy ;  eye 
lively,  bold,  and  yet  darkened  by  sloiv  but  continual  grief; 
form^lim,  wiry,  although  a  httle  bent,  by  ^abit  of  con- 
centration.    Such  is  the  portrait  of 'the  man  whose  age    ' 
was  estimated  at  from  thii-ty-five  to  forty  years. 

«  With  what  rapidity  time  flies  !"  murmured  he,  tuvtiing 
one  by  one  the  pages  of  the  manuscript,  covered  with  com-     ' 
pact  hurried  writing.     "Soon  five  years !-five  years  of 
affliction!     Ypt  it  seems  to  me  as  if  it  had  been  only  yes- 
lerday  we  disemba^ed.    Do  we  hve  more,  then,  on  hope, 
^than  recollection  ?     Goqd  or  bad,  the  past  is  always  '^  the 
bayk  of  the* future,  and  rarely  is  the  present  a  bill  which 
possfesses  any  value  for  us.    An  inscrutable  tAing  ii^  human 
life.    Awake  we  dream,  asleep  we  have  a  reverie.    How 
vast,  tUn,  is  the  distance  which  separates  "our  littleness 
from  divine  grandeurl    One  cannot  even"control  his  oim 


'<£^:^if: 


1T^'  "^-K^'-i" 


':J'J*3 


^■■^■ 


grouped  in 

re  crossed, 
his  thigh, 
1.  Beforo 
ok,  "which^ 
3  entirely 
irned  with 
'  hair  and 
nd  abund- 

Visacfe,  ■ 
3atures^f 
holy ;  eye 
ual  grief; 
it  of  con- 
hose  age 


i,  tuvriing 
I'ith  corn- 
years  of 
only  yes- 
on  hope, 
ys'^t  the 
ill  which 
8  human 
. ,  How 
ittleness 
[lis  oMm 


/ 

V 


265 

He  stopped  s„d,lo„ty,  and  contemplated  the  iiamo  of  the 
'77'"""  •uu.ned  on  the  taWe;  for  although  it  Cdt 
day,  the  panes  of  pa,-ehme„t  allowed  too.li.L  of  The  ith. 
.o.^.o.nde.tp„..le.e„ad.tW 

,  "  I«l«  of  Sable,  October  29,  1S9S. 

Lord  Lord!  smite  not  thy  humble  servant!  Behold! 
-y  body  .  bowed  down;  ,,y  soul  ^sgrioved;  I  am  goL^ 
to  the  abyss  of  despair.  ^   ^ 

"What  emotio,«  agitate  me!    I  feel,  and'yet  do  kot' 

te  s„  faee  of  bodmg  ,vatcr ;  everything  strikes  me-every: ' 
thmg  bmds  toe;  tears  soothe  me, . bnt  my  eyes^  &£. 
o^bnr^ng.   I  have  nU  even  the  M.a,es'„f"plT    ^ 

BtranWe^     Of  my  dear  Fronee,  and  my  dear  Lanra,  I  think 
.     kss.    Pr.™t,ons  of  alilinds  have  mademe  indite  nt^^  V 
snffe.    Mystery,  ,.i„  .bo„  permit  me  to  tear  awaC  tKy^ 

,       I   wa,t  «U>  unpafenee  the  retnrn  of  the  Marquis  de  la  •  g 
Eoehe;  and  I  kn,w  no.  why  it  is  that  I  dr.ad  to\ee  hil     *• 
amve.     11.  island  pleases  m.,  all  sterUe  as  it  is.    T  Kv" 
hoX    .r;^".""  ""  '^^"■"-•^  wife,snrronndedb; 
w«»Ad  1  say?-What  has  beebme  of  her  who  was  a^&V 
ns      How,  wift  what  object  did  she  praee  herself  a^Ev- 

.  .i^tbandofmaje^rs?    She  seemed  good IrooTdlrf. 


iii^ 


w 


# 


•  J.- 


f 


'y- 


PV. 


**?■" 


1^*^'. 


R#. 


-  .    2G6  \ 

was  exemplary;  her  courage,  her  energy,  ajH-passed  imag- 
ination; and  then,  what  a  beautiful  face/  Oh,  the  life  of 
that  woman  must  veil^  profoimd  secret!  Without  doubt 
Bome  sublime  devo^i  has  prompted  her,     *    *    * 

"But  am  I  not  foolish?  This  woman  had  perhaps  a 
lover  among  the  convicts !  Oh,  no,  no !  banish  that  mon- 
strous proposition !  She  a  lover!  She  a  depraved  woman— 
'tis  not  the  case;  my  heart  tells  me  so;  my  reason  proves 
it  to  me!  Is  it  thus  I  honor  the  memory  of  her  Avho,  at 
the  peril  of  her  own,  saved  ithe  life  of  Monseigneur  de  la 
Roche  and  mine  ?     ^||^  gratitude  be  manifested  by  an 

♦'Ah,  pardon,  no!%^!own !  pardon,  if  you  are  dead; 
forgive,  if  you  still  breafi.  God,  how  beautiful  she  was! 
What  a  queenly  bearing !  What  dignity  of  deportmcM.t ! 
What  angelic  sweetness  in  her  countenance!  No,  that 
angel  was  not  born  in  the  cabin  of  a  serf;  I  refuse  to  believe 
it.     It  was  a  manor  she  had  for  a  cradle ;  it  was  great  and 

powerful  lords  she  had  for  relatives. 

J' 
"Still  that  thought;  it  haunts  me  incessantly;  I  chase  it 
under  one  foi-rn,  it  reappears  under  another.'  I  close  my 
eyes,  it  is  reflected  as  in  a  mirror;  I  turn  about,  still  it  is 
before  me;  I  promenade,  it  follows  me;  I  work,  it  con- 
tinues with  my  labors;  I  go  to  bed,  it  is  at  my  pillosv;,  I 
Bleep,  it  hovers  about  my  head. 

"It  is  said 'that  divine  Providence  often  sends  us  warn- 
ing^, in  order  to  instruct  us.  Is  tliis  one?  Yet,  what  is 
the  use  in  my  occupying  myself  with  it  ?  What  is  the  use 
in  searching  for  a  thing  henceforth  useless?    Have  not 


'^^Cki.^, 


».■»■■ 


■^^x-f-v:^ 


'  r 


3ed  imag- 

the  life  of 

out  doubt 
* 

pcrhnps  a 
iliat  mon- 
woman — 
on  proves 
r  Avho,  at 
leur  do  la 
ed  by  an 

re  dead ; 
sbe  was! 
)rtnKMit ! 
STo,  tliat 
o  believe 
reat  and 

chase  it 
ilose  ray 
;ill  it  is 
it  con- 
illoNv;.  I 

s  Warn- 
what  is 
the  use 
iVe  not 


2G7 

njoro  than  two  months  passed  since  she  disappoa;ed  ?^   ^ 
Have  I  not  caused  the  island  to  be  searched  from  one  cor'^ 
nor  to  another  in  the  hope  of  iltlln,  her?    lU.  .^t  the  " 
lake  been  somidcd  by  Philip  ?     *    ♦  '  * 

"Poor,  dear  girl,  she  is  dead!     Perh'.ns  nf  n  h      ^^^ 
(l.^nfJ.  t     \\n     1  «     ^  -remaps  ot  a  horrible 

<i'.ath!     Who  knows?     Perhat^s  rlii..;„n,  ♦v.       •  i     '. 
.  *P^  auiing  thp  night  of  the 

s-  w..,.    ,„,„,„  ,,,^_  ^^^^^^^^        P 

to.aco..,vn„ta5e„fthos«k„o.„ft,,„po„,ehiU.     Iw 
fiod!  men  are  wicked  indoed,  since  they  can  even  be  si     '       . 
posed  to  be  guilty  of  such  crime,.  '^ 

"Thick  darkness  8urroun/(ls  mo      Ti>^ 

iiuujKis  me.     lliese  papers,  p  eked" 

Uaneetoher  „  «, ^,iking,tius  portrait;  I  have  a.aia 

. -<;«tonti/.ly.     The  more  I  e„mp.^e  it,  the  more         ' 
n=y  suspicions  assume  consistence.     She  i,  her  dau-Hue^- 
sometlung  tells  n.o  at  the  bottom  of  my  heart.     Ila've  ik 
nght ,«  deceive  myself.     And  do  I  not  remember  the  laC 
w  s  e.ehan,ed  between  her  and  me;  when  I  asked  he 
whether  .t  was  true  that  her  name  was  Yvon,  did  she>t 

TZZ     /'V'^""'"™"'^"^^'     Whatalabyril 
I  a.n  m  I  _  Am  I  never  to  se^her  again,  or  know  the  truth 
■n  regard  to  herf    Lor^^  „«  ^,  ;„  ^^  * 

B.ons  w  ,ch  burn  me  Uke  red  irons.    Ke-estabUsh  peace  „ 

my  mmd.  and  enable  me  to  renounce  reprehensible  worid" 

mess  m  order  to  be  able  to  fulfil  my  duties  towards  you 

and  these  poor  people.  wh«„  you  have  made  it  my  misla 

ZtZ """''""'  "'^'y  --.  -»  Obedience  to 


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b  1 1 


•     268 

The  viscount  had  not  perueed  these  lines  without  making 
frequent  pausesr^o  meditate. 

"My  God!"  exclaimed  he,  on  fiiiisliing,  "  how  the  hours, 
days,  weeks,  months,  seasons,  years  have  flown ;  and  neither 
time  that  corrodes  all ;  physical  maladies  which  enfeeble 
,the  body,  nor  moral  maladies  which  obliterate  sensibility, 
have  been  able  to  eradicate  those  impressions  left  on  my 
mind,  and  on  my  heart.  The  All-Powerful  has  not  had 
pity  on  me." 

He  bowed  his  head  sadly,  and  turned  over  some  leaves 
of  his  journal. 


**  ^ 
i  ^ 


X 


"Jannary  2,  1599. 

"What  a  sweet  emotion  I  felt  yesterday.  I  was  far 
from  expecting  that  delicious  surprise.  Brave  Philip  I 
what  a  heart,  beneath  his  rough  sailor's  garb !  It  is  he, 
doubtless,  who  has  induced  the  colonists  to  wish  me  a 
happy  new  year.  Oh,  I  should  indeed  be  happy  if  all 
would  return.  The  certainty  that  I  have  enemies  here, 
■where  all  ought  to  be  like  brothers,  has  cast  a  cloud  over 
that  family  re-union.  Grant,  Divine  Redeemer,  that  the 
soldiers — those  who  strayed  rather  by  lassitude  than  ma- 
lignity— may  not  persist  in  their  hardness  of  heart.  How 
much  more  agreeable  it  would  have  been  for  us  all  to  have 
thanked  heaven  together  for  having  hithellto  provided  us 
with  subsistence,  and  to  have  supplicated  Him  to  continu*^''"*-^ 
his  benefits. 

"  It  was  eight  o'clock  when  my  dear  colonists  arrived, 
^ssed'  in  their  best  clothes.     Philip  marched  at  their 


% 


-    f 

269 

head;  the  honest  saUor  tried  to  pay  me  a  compliment 
But  his  eloquence  di^  not  equal  his  expectation,  and  he 
threw  himself  at  my  feet,  kissed  my  hand,  and,  with  tears 
in  his  eyes,  exclaimed,  'Excuse  me,  monseigneur.  I  had 
wished— I  had  desired— in  short,  to  tell  you  in  a  word,  my 
comrades  and  I  wish  you  every  prosperity ^ 

"  Well,  well,  Philip,"  replied  I,  seeing  that  he  could  not 
proceed,  and  addressing  myself  to  the  troop,  who  cried 
with  their  heads  bare:  'Vive,  vive!  Monseigneur  de 
Ganay !'  I  made  a  Uttle  speech,  which  touched  these 
good  people.    Then  we  devoted  our  hearts  to  God. 

"  The  dinner  was  pleasant,  more  bountiful  than  usual, 
and  at  the  desert  I  caused  to  be  distributed  all  that  re- 
mained of  our  last  barrel  of  brandy.  How  joyful,  then, 
were  my  subjects !  In  an  instant  they  forgot  the  precaii- 
ousness  of  their  situation,  and  the  rigor  of  that  horrible 
winter  which  subjected  the  sea  itself  to  its  dommion.  Poor 
fellows,  they  forgot,  that  if  fish  failed  to-nj^pWsow,  we  «hould 
die  of  hunger  I    Ah  I  I  could  not  forget.  *  Alas  1" 


^^a 


% 


.1 


'  '  "  Febroary  6th. 

"It  is  horrible!  two  of  our  men  have  been  frozen  this 
morning,  going  to  hunt.  I  am  told  that  the  soldiers  are  a 
prey  to  famine.  I  am  going  to  send  them  some  fish.  My 
God !  why  do  they  refuse  to  take  my  advice." 


M 


"  Pebrnary  11th. 

"We  must  fight  to-day;  we  must  defend  ourselves 
against  pillage  and  murder ;  we  must  shed  the  blood  of  our 
brethren  I-   Has  an  evil  genius  taken  possession  of  these 


7 


^■nfH  %  \ia^*' 


.^$i^tMaM><ll^p^ 


,  > 

■4 
-  ^. 

1    r 

■A. 


-    * 

^' 

{"  ' 

r 

^^■'■ 

fe^ 

*. 

^ 

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v-r 

p^ 

■t: 

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,•# 

Bfc 

; 

1^ 

'^j* 

<> 

iK: 

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^^ 

*-; 

.i  ,       * 

.s 

.      270 

nnfortunates  ?  Tbey  came  thus  armed  to  the  teeth,  and 
had  it  not  been  for  the  bravery  of  our  colonists,  we  should 
have  fallen  under  the  fire  of  the  bandits.  The  struggle 
lasted  two  hours.  We  were  obliged  to  use  our  muskets. 
Six  men  were  killed ;  two  .colonists,' and  four  soldiers.  Will 
this  lesson  teach  the  latter  ?  I  doubt  it.  At  least,  except 
Pierre,  their  chief,  is  kiUed,  they  wiU  return,  sooner  or 
later,  to  the  charge."  ♦  ♦ 

"March  let. 

"Thedivine  wrath  rests*  on  us  with  all  its  weight.  My 
God,  may  your  will  be  done  on  earth  as  in  heaven !  But  I 
beseech  you  to  spare  these  poor  unfortunates.  The  scurvy 
rages  in  the  camp." 


soTSmj 


...^^^  "March  2nd. 

"A  bandit,  named  Ludov^coTErnard,  has  died  of  scurvy 
this  morning  at  ten  o'clocl^.''  Two  others  are  affected  with 
this  horrible'*malady.  A  soldier  has  deserted,  in  order  to 
join  us.  I  have  giVfen  orders  that  he  be  well  received.  Let 
us  hope  that  his  exalmple  will  find  imitators."  ■ 

"The  wretch!"  said  the  reader,  rising  hurriedly,  "he 
was  sent  by  his  accomplices  to  assassinate  me.  Had  not 
the  prudence  of  Philip  discovered  the  plot,  he  would  have 
done  so."       , 

He  walked  up  and  down  the  apartment,  returned  to  his 
seat,  and  opened  his  journal  at  random.     - 

"April  Tth. 

"The  cold  is  still  excessive,  and |re  are  hungry.— Ah ! 
what  »  hideous  thing  hunger  is  I    Sunken  faces,  irritable 


,-tf  j(^  f. 


It 


>:j»P^TOTi.TilSf«B»'S«l«i.5 


^^y'j  ^ '  twj-' 


271 


■.'*'":i*^_ 


minds;  men  who  sob,  or  blaspheme,  with  such  am  I  sur- 
rounded.   With  the  exception  of  Francceur  whose  firmness 
and  self-abnegation  are  proof  against  aU;  I  see  only  pros- 
tration  and  hatred.    J  feel  myself  that  ray  energy  b  faU- 
ing.    I  am  suffering  from  hunger.     Fisliing  having  failed^ 
we  have  had  to  eat  boiled  sheepskins;  then  we  had  to  dig 
holes  in  the  snow,  in  order  to  extract  some  roots,  and  at  ' 
the  moment  I  write,  this  last  resource  has  failod.-Good 
God,  I  am  informed  that  they  are  going  to  disinter  the 
bodies  of  the  two  men,  frozen  to  death  m  March.  *  *  0  Lord, 
O  Lord,  grant  that  this  profanation  may  ii#t  take  place."  ' 

#  *  "April  8th. 

« I  have  fever;  my  head  bums ;  a  cold  sweat  bedewB  «iy 
body.-The  hair  stands  on  my  head-the  pen  tremblePi^ 
my  hand.  *  *  Unfortunates,  they  have  realized  their  design. 
They  have  taken?  these  dead,  livid  bodies  from  beneath  the 
ice.— I  dare  not  finish—" 


1- 


"April  Oth. 

"All-powerful  God,  cause  me  to  die-famine  devours  me 
—There  is  a  fire  in  my  stomach— Oh,  if  I  could  die—." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  young  man,  « I  wished  to  die  then,  but 
r  ^  it  was  less  OQ^account  of  the  frightful  tortures  I  endured, 
than  in  consequence  of  the  sinister  projects  w'hich  hunger 
had  excited  in  my  brain.  I  trembled  at  these.— I  was  seized 
with  the  fury  of  a  cannibal.  Far  from  loathing  human 
flesh,  it  attracted  mie  irresistibly.  I  remember  that  I  got 
up  from  my  bed,  seized  a  poignard,  and  if  a  man  had  been- 
present  that  moment,  f»wouId  have  cut  his  throat,  to  suck 
his  blood,  to  tear  his  limbs  with  my  teeth.— Horror^.'* 


J- 


;.i^' 


^  K 


7,^ 


3 
i^ 


-  vK 


.    '  '      '      rm       '  '-^ 

He  hid  his  face  in  his  hands,  and  remained  absorbed  in 
thought,  interrupted  from-  time  to  time  by  spasmodic 
tremblings. 

The  noise  outside  diverted  the  dreamer  from  his  bitter 
reflections.  lie  ran  to  the  window,  and  seeint?  that  the 
noise  had  been  occasioned  by  the  fall  of  an  avalanche  of 
enow  from  the  top  of  his  cabin,  he  returned  to  his  peat. 

"May  let. 

•    "At  last  Spring  has  dissipated  the  frosts  of  winter ;  Nature 
is  smiUng.     Ah !  who  can  fail  to  recognize  the  goodness  of 
God  m  the  magnificent  scenes"  around  us  I    The  sun,  warm 
Md.  vivifying,  bathes  its  golden  rays  in  the  sea ;  the  sky, 
without  a  cloud,  which  dazzles  by  the  purity  of  its  azure, 
and  then  that  world  which  becomes  animate  at  our  feet,  by 
our  sides,  over  our  heads.  *   "«'  Listen  I  these  are  small 
birds;  they  tell  the  timidities,  the  impatiences,  the  jealous- 
ies, and  the  pleasures  of  love,  and  their  language  fill  you 
withecstacy.     Sing,  sing  on,  httle  birds!  your  romances 
sooth  my  cares  as  formerly  the  ballad  of  my  nurse  put  my 
infancy  to  sleep.  *  ♦  Wait!   Will  Providence  guide  a  ship 
to  these  shores  ?    Has  the  Castor  been  wrecked  ?    Theie 
questions  constantly  recur  in  my  mmd.    But  now,  I  wish 
to  dispel  them,  *  *  destmies  are  in  the  hands  of  the  Most 
High.    I  commit  myself  humbly  to  his  care.    With  the 
faith,  the  certainty,  of  being  again  in  a  better  world,  the 
human  creature  is  never  unfortunate." 

,    "  Octobej  M. 
•  *  *  «  *  ,♦       ' 

HThis  morning,  during  a  solitary  promenade,  I  wenjt  as 

far  as  the  hut,  now  in  ruins,  wWlh  she  inhabited  with  the 


t 
1 
I 

,1 

B 


tl 

'ai 


SHTWgKSS^Tp 


^X«k^i«&t^.^«^_tM'»^,^.3j- 


■.i5M:^E 


273 


A,  ho  concluded  this  phrase,  he  heard  a  gentle  tap  at 
the  door.  He  hastened!  to  close  the  journal,  and  hide  it 
at  the  bottom  of  the  coffer. 

.  "Come  in  I"  said  he,    j      ' 


1^ 


shipwrecked  man.   Seating  myself  on  a  beam,  I  had  a  W 
reverym  regard  to  A.r.     Who  was  .A...    Where  can  .^ 
havepenshed?    Night  casts  its  shades  over  that  extinct    ^    '  "^' 
life,  and  never  will  any  light  be  shed  Vn  it  I    My  God  if'"' 
BO  maiyr  presentiments  had  not  deceived  me  I" 


''  ■>! 


U^- 


r 


:^3fM 


<;/.*• 


'  *   ■ 
.4  ' 


V 


>*_>. 


"A'u. 


V. 


>} 


CHAPTER  XX. 

-       TECK     StTRI>IMSB3. 

The  door  opened,  and  Philip  FraQcoBu^  appeared. 

"Ah I  it  is  you,  my  old  friend,"  said  the  viscount,  rising 
and  shaking  the  sailor  by  the  hand.  "But  what  is  the 
matter?  you  are  quite  excited — "  ^f^        *      *      '" 

"Oh,  monseigneur,  monseigneur !"  replied  Philip  in 
broken  accents,  "  I  knol^  very  well,  I  know  very  well- 

"  What  did  you  know  ?" 

"Ah  I  old  Francoeur  is  more  cunning  than  he  seenls." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?" 

"That  nearly  chokes  me,  yes,  indeed  I ^* 

" Sit  down,  And  get  over  your  emotion.", 

"My— excitement;  you  have  said  the  word.  I  am  devil- 
ishly excited.    The  me^s  of  not  being  so  too !" 

"Relate  to  me,  what  it  is,"  said  the  viscoont,  tapping 
him  encouragingly  on  the  shoulder. 


^nk 


•it  V ' 


th 


kni 
me 


«-^fcfciV- '^■iS&t^*'     J    '-Mj^^aHflS  j*^-">-lX  rii#.£i  KjJaif^'j 


^^"^^i^A,* 


'M^' 


276 

''•  But,  at  least,  monseigneur,  you*will  promise-" 
«  All  you  wish."  ^ 

^  "It  is,  you  see,"  said  Philip  whose  eyes  sparkled  with 
joy,  '  that  this  news  is  so  extraordinary—" 

"Have  you  discovered  a  shoal  of  herrings?" 

"  Not  at  aU." 

"Lordlaship— "  ^ 

«Ko,  nol"  replied  Philip, shaking  his  head;  « the  hour 
of  our  deliverance  has  not  yet  come." 

The  light  that  illuminated  the  countenance  of  De  Ganay 
was  extinguished.        ,-  , 

"  Then  speak,  my  devoted  servant,"  said  he. 
"  I  fear  this  news — *  ;- 

"Will  it  be  bad?"  exclaimed  John,  ki^g  his  brows.  " 

"  On  the  contrary." 

"Explain  yourself  then."  ' 

"If  I  were  sure  that-well  I  can't  hold  out  any  longer 
yes,  mdeed,  by  the  trident  of  Neptune  1  She  is  found 
again  I" 

The  sailor  spoke  this  last  phrase  with  a  vivacity,  so  great 
that  one  would  think,  the  words  burned  his  throat.        - 
"Found  again  I" 

"Who?"  asked  the  viscount,  growing  pale.  ^ 

«OhI"  exclaimed  j^hilip,  "pardon;  I  was  too  abrupt.  I 
knew  that  if  I  let  you  know  that  suddenly  — .  Excnse 
me,  I  don't  know  t&w  to  manage  such  things." 


'Him 


» *  -IM^m::^^.  ; 


^m 


•     276 

"But  who  is  she?'*  repeated  the  viscount  in  an  excited 
tone. 

"Monseigneur,  monseigneur  I  do  not  ask  rao  to  tell,"  re- 
plied Philip  frightened  at  the  agitation  df  his  master. 

"  Who  is  she  ?— for  the  third  time." 

"Yvon,"  said  the  sailor,  in  a  tone  so  low  that  John 
thoughj;  he  had  misunderstood.  ^ 

"Yvon I — ^that  young  girl— found  again!—** 

"  Ye8„mon8eigneur.'*  j 

"You  have  found  her?" 

"  Yes,  monseigneur." 

"Ah  ( but  you  only  deceive  raerPInlip— is  not  that  it,  my 
friend?"  pressing  feverishly  in  his  fingers  the  sailor's  hahd. 

"Deceive  you,?    Ito  deceive  you,  monseigneur?" 

"But  Where  is  she,  PhUip ?  quic^ !  run  1"  -^ 

» 

Then  all  of  a  sudden,  the  countenance  of  the  viscount 
brightened  up,  his  muscles  quivered.  He  supported  him- 
self against  the  table,  to  avoid  falling.  He  made  a  move* 
ment,  he  opened  his  mouth  to  speak,  but  the  sounds  died 
on  his  lips. 

Philip  was  frightened  at  the  change  produced  in  the 
viscount. 

"  Give  me  some  water !"  stap.mered  John  with  much 
diffiCtilty.  .  V 

He  swallowed  a  few  drops,  and  moistened  his  temples. 
By  degrees  he  seemed  to  become  calm ;  and  although  a  vol- 
cano smoulder^  in  his  heart,  he  said  quietly  to  the  sailor: 


m:^^m^^mwm 


il^V 


MWni^KH   7  .    ''Tyt        ■•■J  -^  f.  ,"<■ 


■K 


2V7 


/ 


"  Where  have  you  found  her  ?"    • 

"Fishing  on  the  sea-shore." 

_        "  Drowned,"  stammered  the  viscbunt  with  a  painful  ef- 
fort. 

"Drowned,  no,  monseigneur,  but  on  the  point  of  dvinjr 
with  cold."         '  r  ^    h 

■\ 

"Then  she  is^ alive  1  you  say  she  is  alive  1^  Exclaimed 
John  in  a  passionate  tone.    "^  ,         \ 

"She  is  but  a  few  steps  from  this.'*  "      ,V 

"Oh!  thank  you,  my  God,"  said  he,  raising  towards 
heaven  his  eyes,  radiant  with  gratitude. 

.  The  sailor  briefly  related  to  the  viscount  the  histor^-  of 
Guyonne,  from  her  disappearance  from  tlie  camp  to  the 
moment  when  he  had  so  miraculously  saved  her.  John 
hstenedto  the  recital  with  mute  attention,  suspended,  so  to 
speak,  from^lg  lips  of  the  narrator. 

"Come,  Ibfaie,"  said  he,  as  soon  as  Philip  was  done. 
"Let  us  go  for  her;  for  you  do  not  know  who  that  young 
girl  is.^You  have  no  idea  of  what  a  noble  family  she  be- 
longs  to.    But  let  us  hasten/' 

"Pardon,  monseigneur,"  said  the  saUor  without  mov- 

"Not^ol  I  am  burning  with  impatience,  all  trembKng 
with  that  selfish  impetuosity  with  which  unforeseen  happi- 
ness  animates  out  blood." 

J^onseigneur,  listen  to  me,  I  beg  6f  you,"  objected 
I'hihp,  stopping  the  equerry  with  aloofc  "First  of  aU,  it  is 


A 


''*M:i 


4'  i 

4? 


^i 


'i/*- 


/ 


#£. 


•T., 


ff^.v^ 


:>i^.  ^•r'€i . 


•^ 


878 


>  .;'fl 


y 


necessary  for  us  16  take  precautions.  Let  us  be  circumi^ect. 
The  re'tum  of  Guyonne  might  prove  disastroua^o  all,  if  her 
• ,  sex  was  known.    Coolness,  IJierefore."  . 

"  You  are.j-ight,  my  ^ear.:^hilip,  I  am  insane,"  said  he,   \ 
extending  his  hand  to  Malificieux. 

"Oh,  I  understand  this^aste,"  replied  Philip  with  a 
smile,  permitted  him  by  his  age,  and  the  numerous  ser- 
vices he  had  rendered  the  viscount.  « You  will  remaib 
here,  your  rank  and  dignity  require  it.  I  will  return  to 
Yvon,  and  brihg  her  to  youT"  •  • 

"All  right,  my  good  Philip,  afl  is  permitted  to  you.** 

"Now,"  said  the  sailor,  rubbing  his  face,  ^^« now,  mon- 
Beigneur,  you  know  what  you  have  to  do."  j 

"  Yes,  yes,  run,  and  bring  her."  , 

"It  is  Yvon,  nothing  but  Yvon,  N^  40;  don't  foi'get, 
moriseigneur,"  said  Philip  starting. 

*'.♦""  ♦  •  * 

PhiHp  gay«  her  his  arm,  fearing  that  her  epiotipns  might 
betray  her  in  passing  the  colonists,  whispering  "be  firml" 

She  advanced  timidly.  TTie  viscount  congratulated  her 
with  sufficient  cahpness  on  her  almost  miraculous  deliver- 
ance. She  replied  by  an  unintelligible  «tammer ;  and  John 
de  Ganay,  in  order  to  put  an  end  to  a  soeiie  that  might 
be  embarrassing*  said :  -  ^ 

"Tvori,  go  in,  and  warm  yourself  The  Qold  may  inj^b 
your  health  which  seems  to  have  sofiereci  sq  much/al- 
ready.^*   .       ' 


m 


N 


iK;,'     >  *  ■  • 


^i.t 


J 


ipect. 
if  hor 


a  he,  \      .  ^ 


ith  a 
3  Ber- 
maJb 
rnto 


tuon- 


'get. 


ight 
ml" 

her 
ver- 
ohn 
ight 


'■t-r  '-z:. 


room 


The  Bailtfr  conducted  his  pro%<5e  into  the  sitting- 

,     of  the  viscount,  'wrho-  was  by  her  side,  tetHrOrMe^  in  a  few- 
minutes.  ^  '   .        '•       . 


"} 


^ 


% 


^'5 


4: 


/at 


/T 


> 


%• 


« 


'syia^Haam4^'4:»'i. 


^^e 


i-    1^.  v« 


. , ^     'V         »~ 


> 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


QXJESTIO:SS    J^NT>     RESPONSES. 

'  -  SKATEDaiear  the  fire,  Guyonne  had  her  eyes  down.  What 
she  experienced  we  cannot  describe.  It  was  an  indefin- 
able combination  of  timidity,  fear  shame  and  love. 

Jolm  de  Ganay  was  not  less  agitated,  nor  less  confused. 
Standing  near  tlie  table,  he  affected  to  arrange  some  papers 
to  keep  himself  in  countenance.  But  the  shaking  of  his 
hand,  the  indecisive  looks  he  gave  now  at  the  young  wo- 
man, then  to  the  right,  then  to  the  left,  betraying  the  per- 
turbation to  which  he  was  a  prey. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  passed  in  this  way.  The  silence  of 
the  two  young  people  was  interrupted  only  by  the  crack- 
ling of  the  wood  In  the  fire.  Ten  times  the  viscount  onen- 
ed  his  mouth 


him. 


speak,  and  as  often  did  his  strength  fiiil 


At  last  he  sat  near  our  heroine  who,  succumbing  to  tbe_ 
eight  of  her  impressions,  burst  into  tears,  and  hid  her 


~i^: 


A-Bf^i^'tij 


281 


face  in  her  hands.  This  incident  served  ^  a  re-ac  Jon  to 
the  equerry.  He  appeased  the  disordered  palpitations  of 
his  heart,  and  questioned  Guyonne  gently ;  _        ^ 

"  Mademoiselle " 

"  Oh,  pardon,  monseigneur !  pardon,  for  having  deceived 
you,    sobbed  the  ^g  girf,  falling  ^t  his  feet. 

"Get^p,  get  np-^^said  he,  turning  his  head  aside  to  con- 
ceal  the  tears  that  moistened  his  eyes. 

"Xo  monseigneur,  it  is  the  only  posture  that  becomes  a 

miserable  sinner  like  me,"  replied  she  with  emotion.     «'! 
have  gravely  offended  our  Father  who  is  in  heaven,  and 
you,  monseigneur.     But  believe  my  word:  if  my  brother 
rvon  had  gone,  his  father  would  have  died  with  grief.  As^' 
a  pemtence  impose  on  me  the  hardest  labors.  *  *  Oh  I 

shall  be  too  happy  to  be  useful  to  you  in  any  way »' 

^- Noble  girl!"  exclaimed  the  viscount,  forcing  her  to  sit; 
dry  these  tears.  The  deed  you  have  accomphshed,  is 
worthy  of  the  highest  praise  on  earth,  and  of  an  eternal 
recompense  in  the  next  world.  Do  not  bow  your  head,  Gu- 
yonne,  for  you  arfe  the  honor  of  your  sex.  What  I  I  to 
blame  such  devotion,  or  dare  to  treat  it  as  a  fault !  No,  nol 
Much  rather  would  I  proclaim  before  the  world  that  you 
are  the  most  virtuons,  and  the  most  heroic  of  women." 

"Then,  monseigneur,  you  will  not  repel  me!     You  ab- 
solve  me?"  said  Guyonne,  seizing  the  hand  of  the  viscount, 
and  kissmg  it  in  spite  of  herself. 
"I  admire  you,"  murmured  he  in  an  enthusiastic  tone 
It  was  not  unta  then  that  she  ventured  to  raise  her  tear- 


^  ,  •"  ""  *«*»oo  ijci  tear- 

*^eye9  t^mardt  Jofin^ae  GanSy,  wlo,  in  tnni,^ei2edliOT 
hand,  and  pressed  it  to  his  lips. 


I'lWiy.'if^E* 


V- !.'' 


\  "^*->'»>"*l 


-X^'w 


8^82 


By  this  act  the  vfecpunt  elevated  to  his  own  rank  Gu- 
yonne,  the  fisher-glrl.  HoM^ever,  the  latter  was  more 
charmea  than  surprised;  for,  with  the  penetration  which 
women  preserve  in  the  most  complicated  positions,  she 
knew  that  the  young,  man  loved  her. 

"Your  name  is  Guyonne?"  asked  he,  after  a  moment  of 
silent  rfeverie.  '^ 

"  Yes,  monseigneur." 

"Where  are  you  from?" 

"From  the  hamlet  of  De  la  Roche." 

"From  the  hamlet  of  De  la  Roche!  it  is  not  that,'?  said 
the  equerry  thoughtfully. 

Guyonne  did  not  understand,  and  the  viscount  added: 
"  What  occupation  had  your  father  ?" 
"He  was  a  fisherman,  monseigneur." 

"A  fisherman!  but  did  you  not  teU  me  formerly  that  he 
was  a  coaster  ?" 

"It  is  true." 

"Was  he  engaged  in  both  professions?" 

"No,  monseigneur,  my  father-my  own  father— was  a 
coaster;  he  was  shipwrecked;  he  was  supposed  to  be  dead, 
and  my  mother  married  a  fishermjin  of  the  manor  of  De 
la  Roche  for  her -second  husband— that  is  oldPerrin,  who 
has  thus  become  my  stepfather." 

"Ah !"  exclaimed  the  viscount  with  marked  satisfaction. 
"But  you  have  a  brother  ?" 

_.,",^^''°'  monseigneur.    He  is  an  issne  of  the  second  niRr-,^, 
mge,  and  he  cost  our  mother  her  life." 


b&a 


%  *:^r 


T*   ^' 


m, 


283 

"And  your  mother's  name  is— ?'» 
"Margaret,  monseigheur." 

"Margaret!"  exclaimed  the  viscount,  running  to  the 
table,  opening  a  letter,  reading  it  with  avidity,  and  re- 
turninsr. 

"  Was  not  your  father's  name  Simeon  ?»» 

"Simeon,  yes,  monseign^ur,"  repHed  she  with/'profouud 
astonishment. 

^    "  His  surname  was  Leroux,  was  it  not  ?-" 
"Yes,  indeed."  -■ 

"He  was  originally  from  Normandy-and  had  estab- 
hshed  himself  in  a  httle  village  near  Nantes,  at  Chauteray 
where  he  married  your  mother— "  , 

-     "Yes,  yes,"  replied  Guyonne  to  these  questions,  asked 
mth  feverish  rapidity.     "But  how  is  it  that  you  know 
tnonseigneur  ?" —  * 

1^'  He  resided  at  this  village  at  the  time  of  your  birth  ?» 

"  Yes,  monseigneur ;  for  I  was  bom  in  1 5  73." 

"Oh,  what  a  flood  of  light!"  said  the  viscount,  reading 

aloud  the  following  words  from  a  letter  which  he  held  i^ 

his  hand. 

"It  was  the  fifth  of  February,  1573,  towards  four 
o  clock  m  the  morning,  that  I  gave  birth  to  the  fruit  of 
this  unfortunate  love,  reproved  by  the  justice  of  God  and 
man.  It  was  a  child  of.  the  female  sex.  The  chaplain  of 
the  chateau  baptized  it  under  the  name  of  Guyonne,  then, 
^^"^^""^Sfl^^^T^rB  of  llie  mother  who  asked^S™ 
see  her  daugUaf,  it  was  carried  away » 


4"* 


"'  pr^ 


iX  - 


1^ 


r,'3f 


284 

The  fisher-girl  heard  the  reading  of  this  passage  with  a 
stupefaction  which  extended  almost  to  unconsciousness. 
Since  the  previous  evening,  she  had  experienced  so  many 
commotions  that  she  asked  herself  whether  she  was  not 
the  prey  of  a  frightful  nightmare.  Incidents  which  in 
former  times  had  seemed  to  her  to  have  no  importance, 
forgotten  souvenirs,  presented  themselves  in  multitudes  to 
her  memory,  classed  themselves,  and  formed,  the  thread  of 
a  conductor. 

Thus,  Avhen  the  viscount,  interrupting  himself,  said : 

"  Does  not  your  infancy  bring  anything  to  your  memory, 
Guyonne  ?" 

"My  infancy  reminds  me  of  strange  thin^rs." 

John  drew  his  stool  near  that  of  the  young  woman. 

"I  was  very  little,"  continued  Guyonne,  "  when  we  lived 
at  Chauteray  near  Nantes.  However,  I  recollect  that  a 
beautiful  lady,  richly  dressed,  camo  to  our  house  every 
Sunday  after  high  mass." 

"Of  tall  size?"  said  the  viscount. 

"Yes,  monseigneur,  her  form  was  tall  and  majestic. 
Wlien  my  father  was  in,  she  contented  herself  with  giving 
me  some  candies,  or  ginger-bread ;  but  if  I  was  alone,  or 
with  my  mother,  si  took  me  on  her  knee,  and  covered  me 
with  caresses.  So  I  was  very  fond  of  her ;  she  was  so  good 
to  us." 

Guyonne  ceased  to  speak;  briny  tears  gushed  from  under 
her  long  eye-lashes. 

J'Do  yfiu  remember  the  nam©  ©f^at  Jaay  ?"=a8k«d  the— 


. 


viscounU 


1  '  iSv 


■ ;  t.' 


I'' 


285 


"Her  name?  n6lc.anno  longer  recall  it;  but  my  mo- 
ther always  caUed  her  the  Countess »  '  "^^  "^°- 

".Is  that  all?" 

old  womnn  came  to  „„r  l,„„,e.    She  .poke  .ome  word,  to 
my  mother  who  nttc-od  a  loud  cry.    Then  I  ^^-^1 
d™,od,„mybost  clothes;  the  old  woman,  my  Jl  , 
and  mysCf  entered  a  carriage  which  ^waitU  ns  at      J 
door.    I  .„„„«,  ,,„,p.  „„  ,„y„„^  j,„„„,  ; 

I  rge  room,  ly.n.  on  a  bed.  The  boantifld  lady  I  had  seen 
at  our  house,  wa,  lyingbesidc  me.  She  wa,  livfd  with  sict 
ne.s,  and  yet  an  infinite  tenderness  lit  np  her  eye,  when  she 
looked  at  me.  Knelt  at  the  foot  of  the  bed  ^y  2lt^ 
and  the  old  woman  sobbed  and  cried.  The  lady  emb,.ced' 
me  sighmg,  then  she  said  to  my  mother: 

dai:r'' '"" '""  '™°'"*  "^ ""  ■■" "  ^°-^  °™ 

ther'  ""'"'""'  *'''^"^'-"'  exclaimed  my  poor  mo- 

"  Von  will  take  good  care  of  her,  will  you  not,  my  g„„d 
woman?"  contmued  the  lady  in  a  voice,  so  feeble  that  one 
could  scarcely  hear  her. 

"She  will  be  my  daughter,"  said  my  mother,  pressing 
me  to  her  breast.  ^ 

"Thank  you,  Margaret,  I  rely  on  your  word.  Adieu  I 
can  no^.  die  in  peace.  Adieu,  then,  Margaret !  Pray  for 
me,  when  I  am  no  more." 


*P^^e^  «.o  rooh^  and^n^other  took^ 
her  arms.     The  same  carriage  took  us  back  home.    I  slept 


\ 


IP 


s,'"^* 

•■:?' 


A  A 


i^-jji;';"'^'^'':j^'s^^'^c.si 


i>  •^■^■-  ":. 


i,'^ 


i.^. 


28e 

again  on  thft^:wray.  When  I  asked  my  mother  next  day 
about  the  scene  which  I  had  witnessed,  she  told  me  I  must 
have  been  dreaming.  We  left  the  country  a  few  days  after. 
My  mother  was  sad,  and  drejgad  in  black."  *  * 

"Do  you  know  this  face ?"  asked  John  de  Ganay,  show- 
ing Guyonne  the  portrait  of  which  we  have  already  spoken. 
Guyonne  took  it  From  the  hand  of  the  viscount,  and  went 
to  examine  it  by  the  light  of  the  Idrap. 
"  My  God  I"  she  exclaimed,  "  itis  she." 
"That  lady,  is  it  not?"    ' 

"Yes,  yes,  I  cannot^  mistaken.  This  is  certainly  her 
physiognomy,  at  once  gracious  and  grave ;  her  magnificent 
curls,  with  which  I  played,  the  rt)be  of  bro^vn  taffeta,  the 
fine  lace,  and  the  velvet  boddice  which  she  wore  habitually. 
♦  *  Oh,  monseigneur,  it  is  she;  I  would  swear  to  it."— 

The  doubts  of  the  viscount  vanished.  His  radiant  coun- 
tenance reflected  the  joy  that  cheered  his  heart.  Still  he 
wished  a  complete  assurance ;  hence  it  was  that  he  asked 
this  question : 

"Did  your  mother  not  reveal  you  the  secret?"— 
"What  secret,  monseigneur?" 

"  She  told  you  nothing  ?"     ,  .-- 

"Nothing." 

"  A^  the  hour  of  her  death  ?"  insisted  the  viscount,  whose 
looks  ^ore  than  his  words  questioned  Guyonne.  \ 

"At  the  hour  of  her  death  the  poor  lady  gave  me  a  scap- 
ular from  her  neck,  wishing  me  never  to  part  with  it,  and 
adding  in  a  tone  that  still  rings  in  my  ear :  '  Remember, 
J5y  child^that  thii  is  the  only  heritage  which  your  larfor^^ 


.r^  ' 


tunate  mother,  has  left  you.' " 


A. 


'  * 


:M^ 


■t.  '^:il 


T?- 


!^iiMa»v^.^i  x^..^^. 


287 


The  yonng  girl  blushing,  drew  from  her  corset  two  little 
morsels  of  stuff,  sewed  together,  and  suspended  from  her 
neck  by  a  leather  cord. 

ob"ec^^^  y^'^  ^^'^fi*^^  it  to  me  ?»  said  John,  examining  the 

"I  swore  to  my  mother,  never  to  part  with  it,''  replied 
tlie  young  girl.   .  ^ 

"  For  a  few  moments  ?"  ^  ■         -^ 

"I  ^vo„ld  not  hke  to  refuse  you,  tnonseigneur,  but  I 
promised  my  mother— a  dying  woman—." 

"If  your  future,  your  happiness,  depended  on  that  in- 
fraction !"    -  "  '  - 

"I  would  not  willingly  commit  it." 

"And  if  I  ordered  it?"  said  the  viscount,  more  suppliant, 
.  tlian  commandiK^r.  ^i         > 

"  My  duty,  monsoigneur,"  replied  she  sadly,  "  is  to  obey 
you.    I  Avould  obeyl" 

^'Then,"  continued  the  viscount,  not  without  some  hesi- 
tation, «  Guyonne,  I  order  you  to  hand  me  that  gcapular. 
and  I  promise  to  return  it  to  you  this  very  day."        | 

She  handed  the  object  to  the  viscount  with  mournful 
resignation.  The  latter  put  it  under  his  coat,  and  re- 
marked : 

"  One  M'ord  more,  Guyonne:  have  you  not  a  Httle  red- 
ness above  the  breast,  in  the  form  of  a  butterfly?". 

"  Yes,  monseignem-,"  said  she  in  a  low  tone,  while  a  deep 
blush  suffused  her  cheeks. 

Immediately  John  de  Ganay  caUed: 


^irp 


MaUficieux  entered,  and  approached  the  viscount. 


.f^  H 


ti' 


i'^S»lJ'Sla^  >i«3 


■£ 


"^-  ■    ■'      288     ,.'^'  '.    ■ 

*'Yvon  is  fatigued,"  said  John.  "Show  her  her  cham- 
ber." 

Philii)  beckoned  to  Guyonne,  who  followed  him,  not  a 
little  excited  by  the  scene  which  had  passed  between  her 
and  the  equerry. 

No  sooner  was  the  door  closed,  than  John  de  Ganay  cut 
the  threads  that  united  the  two  pieces  of  the  scapular. 

On  one  of  them  was  fqund  embroidered  in  red  silk  a 
«®,"ontheothera"^.?'' 


>-,. 


^  "■ 


V. 


cham- 

not  a 
jn  her 

ly  cut 

silk  a 


:y''-t^ 


CHAPTER  XXn. 


"^ 


:t         vr*;K 


»'<" 


OXJYONNK     AND     JOHN. 


.       Love  presents  two  distinct  traits;  either  it  sprin^^s  up 
voluntarily,  spontaneously;   or  it  grows  slowly,  involun- 
tanly.    In  the  former  case,  it  results  most  frequently  from 
a  predisposition  of  the  individual  who  has  received  the 
germ  from  a  ray  of  the  physiognomy,  or  of  the  esprit  of 
the  mdividual  who  has  transmitted  it.    In  the  second  case, 
love  derives  its  origin  from  an  acquaintance  between  the 
subjective  and  the  objective;  it  is  the  fruit  of  a.  sort  of 
study,   always  of  a  thoughtful  appreciation.      It  is  suffi- 
cient  to  say,  that  one  resembles  those  ephemeral  flowers, 
resplendent  m  colors,  saturated  with  perfumes  in  the  morn* 
uig,but  withered  and  dry  in  the  evening;  and  that  the 
other  appears  like  a  fraU  plant,  ahnost  imperceptible  at 
the  hour  of  its  birth,  but  which  days  mid  months  develop 
genay,  until  its  eg|ision  is  compte^.    Th^Tn  turn  ft 
sparkles    with    a^ousand    colpr^its   perfumes    are 


V  ■ 


■  iff 


>r- 


'':$:> 


^90  ^ 

embalmed;  and  far  from  fading  with  a  revolntion  of  the 
flan,  it  preserves  its  freshness  and  its  magnificence. 

-^  Oh,  how  good  it  is,  how  delightful  that  love  which  softly 
insinuates  itself  into  our  senses  I  IIow  it  teaches  us  to  ap- 
preciate the  pure  and  delicate  I  The  principle  of  devotion, 
creator  of  self-denial,  servant  of  harmony,  torch  of  intelli- 
gence, source  of  ineffable  felicities,  it  baptizes  great  actions, 
enlightens  ignorance,  polishes  the  manners,  smoothes  the 
inequalities  of  character,  inspires  the  artist,  civilizes  the 
savage,  disposes  all  nature  to  a  holy  embrace. 


f..**" 


•jy.'U 


V 


Let  us,  then,  bless  the  sentiment  which  attracts  vari6us 
beings  towards  a  common  pole,  and  while  despising  its 
vague  caprices,  inconstant  as^meteors,  falsely  decorated 
with  the  name  of  loVe,  let  us  admii-e  the  great  passions 
which  have  inflamed  the  hearts  of  geniuses  of  generations 
past  and  present.  Yea,  without  love  we  could  not  have 
possessed  those  inimitable  paintings  of  Raphael,  those  sub- 
lime poems  of  Tasso,  those  profound  political  dissertations 
of  Alachiaveli,  and  those  sonnets  of  Petrarch,  embi-oidered 
and  pearled  like  the  morning  rose,  and  those  thousands  of 
ocner  chefs  d^cBuvre^  which  are  the.  glory  Mid  the  happiness 
of  us  all.  Yes,  let  us  love  well,  and  wlien  we  can  love  a 
bemg  worthy  of  us  by  her  qualities,  when  we  are  sure  that 
we  love  her  with  all  our  |j|ower,  witji  all  our  instincts,  with 
all  our  will,  uniting  our  destinies  to  hers,  let  us  be  attached 
to  her  as  the  stem  is  to  the  flower  I  But  if  she  will  not 
respond  to  our  love  without  violating  the  divine  laws     u-- 


Vf 


.  ( 


f  291 

,  Such  were  in  substance  the  thoughts  of  Viscount  de 
Ganay  duritlg  the  first  days  subsequent  to  his  interview 

with  Guyonne,  the  fisher  woman 

•  *  ♦  .       ♦  »  ^ 

Guyonne  loved  the  equerry,  and  knew  that  her  love  waa 
returned.  She  was  certain  that  there  was  a  veil  over  her 
oi  igin  ;  and  her  uneasiness  was  all  the  mere  painful  from 
the  inflictions  she  had  previously  endured. 

However,  she  did  not  dare  to  speak ;  she  feared,  as  much 
»S  she  desired,  the  presence  of  her  lover.  It  was  not,  there- 
fore, without  inexpressible  cftaotion  that  she  Heard  herself 
addressed:  ^^ 

"  Yvon,  will  you  accompany  me  ?" 

Guyonne  trembled  from  head  to  foot,  and  replied  by 
following  the  viscount. ' 

V  They  followed  a  winding  path,  along  the  shores  of  the 
lake.  John  walked  in  front.  Now,  he  strided  on  without 
raising  his  head,  and  anpn  turning  himself  suddenly  to  cast 
a  long  look  at  his  companiouv^This  strange  conduct  gave 
a  faithful  transcript  of  the  uncertainties  to  which  the  equer- 
By  was  a  prey.  Although  the  young  woman  kept  her  head 
do^,  constantly  she  imitated,  as  if  by  intuition,  the  move- 
meijts  of  her  guide.  She  hastened  her  step,  when  he  hast- 
ened, and  halted  when  he  halted. 

After  a  quarter  of  an  hour  spent  in  this  way,  the  visoount 
spoke:  '      •  » 

"Guyonne,"  said  he,  in  a  voice  bo  timid,  that  the  in- 
stinct of  the  young  woman,  rather  than  her  ear,  heard  her 


'id 


THBB^ 


'i>..K 


>kx  .  'i.^Jj«>A^j&M&btiyi^£^Sall^l^^i£&Li^ 


■Ajdi£S»^i!£kfaj.l<f>1 


f^-'«ff»«WPW^f>'jB?»--'^.'«'l»««>-f^*»™»  fflji^ 


VT,l».^:T,r'«S?'^^^''^s'S|-y^-4l''!CT^ 


m  '•  ■. 


m.. 


coasin 


.292 
She  approached  him. 

**  I  have,"  said  the  equerry,  "  important  rovelai 
make  to  you."  ,  (■ 

He  glanced  at  Guyohne,  who  bowed,  Jff^ithil 

walk."      •    ."         '  "  *j8 

"These  revelations  I  ought  perhaps  to  have  macio  ?he 
day  that  good  Philip  brought  you  back  to  the  camp ;  but 
it  was  of  so  much  importance  to  initiate  you  into  the  secret 
which  they  embody,  the  Certainty  of  being  heard  only  by 
God  and  yourself,  was  necessary.  I  had  to  wait  Until  time-; 
allowed  mo  to  conduct  you  to  a  discreet  place.  That  place 
is  som^two  leagues  from  here.  Before  introducing  you 
thef#;  permit  me,  mademoiselle,  to  ask  pardon  fpi:  the  sad 
condition  into  which  circumstances  have  forced  me  to  keep 

you  ever  since  I  became  aware " 

,  "  Oh,  mon?eigneur,"  exclaimed  she,  with  emotion,  "  ra- 
ther pardon  me ;  Jet  me  bless  the  generous  and  noble  mas- 
ter  "  .  ' 


iman 


ted  Mm  as 


"Stop!"  interrupted  he.    " Between  you  and  me,  there 
is  no  other  master  than 

TlUfli  observing  that 
if  interdicted,  he  added 

"  Come,  Guyonne;    Oh,  come,  quick." 
They  resumed  their  way  without  saying  a  word,  and  did 
not  stop  until  they  reached  the  sea-shore. 

There,  at  the  side  of  a  clifl^  nature  had  formed  a  grotto, 
«ivbich  afforded  an  extensive  view  of  the  ocekn,  and  of  a 
part  <rf  the  Isle  of  Sable.     At  the  bottom  of  the  grotto  ex- 
tended  a  bank,  covered  with  moss. 


M- 


(SS 


im  as 


f 


^ 


4v*k* 


208 

"Come  in,"  said  the  viscount,  showing  her  the  en- 
.  trance.  ^ 

She  wished;  from  deference,  to  let  him  take  the  lead;  l)ut 
^he  said,  in  a  solecon  tone: 

"  WiU  MademoiseUe  la  Comtesse  de  Pentoek  ^o  me  the 
honor-^^ — "  . 

His  gesture  concluded  the  invitation.        •   ^ . 

Guyonne  entered  the  grotto,  and  at  the  request  of  the 
nobleman,  sat  on  the  grassy  bank. 

The  Viscount  de  Ganay  took  off  his  hat,  took  from  it  a 
sealed  paper,  put  his  knee  on  the  ground,  and  presented 
the  paper  with  these  words : 

"Noble  demoiselle,  Maria  Antonetti  Guyonne,  Comtesse 
of  fentoek,  suffer  that  the  humblest  of  your  servants  offer 
you  a  copy  of  your  baptismal' certificate." 

Still  more  astonished  by  the  act  Of  tlje  viscount,  than  by 
the  sight  of  the  seals  which  adorned  the  paper,  Guyonne 
did  not  move. 

"Take  it,"  said  the  equerry,  in  a  gentle  voice;  thk  paper 
contains  the  proof  of  the  illustrious  origin  from  which  you 
have  descended/^  .  '' 

'     *  *  *  ♦  ■      •  ♦, 

" Monseigneur,"  stammered  Guyonne,  "I  don't  under- 
stand  " 

"Listen  to  me,"  said  the  viscount.     "ITear  me,  nobld 
gid;  you  no  longer  owe  me  the  title  of  monseigneur.^  Be-- 
fore  you,  I  am  simply  an  equerry;  and  you, /Demoiselle ^ 
Guyonne,  count  among  your  jjpcestors,  the  most  illustrious 


-Hud  tiie  mostryaljamr  iordB  of  Ifonnafidy  and  Britt^^ 


-# 


M 


.  .  ,< 


jif^:^-> 


-^  ^Ji 


294 


Demoiselle -Guyonne,  her  whom  you  hSve  been  in  the 

habit  of  calling  your  mother,  was  not  such  at  all ;  him 

whom  you  have  been  in  the  habit  of  calling  your  father, 

was  not  such  either.     Your  mother's  name  was  Elizabeth 

Guyonne  de  la  Roche ;  she  was  the  sister  of  the  Marquis 

William  de  la  Roche-Gommard,  and  of  Adelaide  de  la 

Roche,  mother  of  Laura  de  Kerskoen.     You  belong,  then, 

"TDemoiselle  Guyonne,  to  the  De  la  Rloche's,  by  the  mother's 

side,  and  Monseigueur  William  de  V^^oc^e  is  your  mater- 
nal  uncle."  -«* 

"Holy  Virgml      Can' it  be  possible?     Is  it  not  a 
dream?" 

"  Your  father,  Demoiselle  Guyonne,  .was  a  valiant  cap- 
^  tain.    George  Maximus  de  Pentoek,  Count  of  St.  Lo." 

"But  how?    It  is  a  mistake.    You  deceive  yourself, 
monseigneur." 

"Read  this  parchment,  and  you  will   recognize  the 
truth." 

"No,  no,  my  sweet  Saviour!    I  could  never  dare " 

"  "Well,  if  you  will  authorize  me,  noble  demoiselle,"  said 

John  de  Ganay,  taking  back  the  parchment  which  she  held 

in  her  half-opened  hand. 

"Ah,  quit  that  posture,  monseigneur,"  murmured  she. 
Tliis  request  was  made  with  charming  amiabiUty,  but  it 
was  equivalent  to  an  order. 

The  young  woman  had  recovered  her  feminine  tact,  and 
with  that  pi^mptitude  with  which  women  adapt  themselves 
to  circumstances,  she  knew  already  how  to  be  gracious  4nd 
-imperative,  l&oth  m  her  maxmerflflia^  Words.    "  ■' " "  "^ 


^ 


".>. 


u 

b 
fi 


w 


^/tV 


vt 


The  equerry  rose,  and  remained  standing,  with  his  head 
uncovered. 

In  this  position  his  face  was  towards  her,  and  his  person 
being  placed  at,  the  entrance  of  the  grotto,  prevented  her  . 
from  looking  out. 

"Deign  to  sit  down,"  said  she,  inviting  him  with  her 
hand  to  sit  beside  her. 

John  joyously  proceeded,  to  obey  her,  when  an  explosion 
was  heard,  only  a  few  paces  distant. 
The  >ascount  uttered  a  cry,  and  fell,  bathed  in  blood.  • 


» 


:'tV 


t 


4va 


it' 


it' 


V 


■    A; 


y--%s> 


'1 


CHAPTER  XXm. 


li  O  VE. 


To  the  cry  of  the  young  man  two  other  cries  responded, 
like  a  higubrious  echo.  One  heart-rending,  full  of  anguish ; 
the  other  terrible  and  menacing.  Guyonne  had  uttered 
the  first,  Philip  Francoeur  the  Second.  Debouching  from 
a  clump  of  fir-trees,  the  latter  precipitated  himself  towards 
a  sand-hill,  behind  which  a  man  was  sitting.  Malificieux 
was  pai7)le  with  rage ;  he  brandished  a  long  cutlas.  He 
leaped  at  the  man,  and  attacked  him  with  fury.  A  strug- 
gle commenced ;  it  was  short  and  fatal.  The  sailor  soon 
disarmed  his  adversary,  who  defended  himself  with  the 
stock  of  ^  musket;  then  he  threw  him  down,  and  plunged 
his  knife  into  his  heart. 

This  combat  was  as  rapid'  as  lightning.  After  having 
assured  himself  that  liis  enemy  was  no 'more,  Philip  ad- 
vanced towards  the  grotto.  He  found  Guyonne  kneeling 
beside  the  viscount,  who  was  wounded  in  the  shoulder  by 


a  ball  .  The  young  woman  had  torn  De  Ganay's  clothes, 


■ -^-sAJBiUiJiSiB 


/  \'^'^,'^^w;j^Mm{ 


'-M 


297 

M  her  a„.i„™  efforts  ,o  stop  the  Wood  which  flowed  from 
the  open  wound.    "  vcu  iiora 

During  this  operation  he  smiled  on  her  kindly;  he  seemed 
pleased  wUh  an  aceident,  whieh,  more  eonvinein;i,  Z  n 
avowal,  proved  that  Guyonne  loved  him. 

thrAl''-"^!""''"  ''^^  ''''  ^^  P-^^ving  the  sailor,  "itis 
the  Alm.ghty  that  has  sent  you  at  this  time.  Con.e  come 
quiek,  monseigneur  is  dying.     Aid  me  in  assisting  him." 

"Monseigneur!"  repeated  Philip,  in  a  mournful  tone. 
^^  "Bo  not  uneasy,  my  dear  friends,"  said  the  viscount: 
itisnothmg;  no  vital  part  has  been  touched.    Merely 

ZZ  ''''  '''  '"'  ''  '^^^'^   '''  '  '"^  ^^''^^  4 

"3fy  God!  my  God!  save  his  life  and  take  mine!"  sob- 
bed poor  Guyonne. 

"Let  mo  see,"  said  Philip,  stooping  down.     I  kno^ 
Bomethmg  of  surgery  myself.     Yes,  indeed » 

And  turning  to^vards  Guyonne : 

"WUl'you,  my  child,  go  to  the  nearest  spring  and  fetch 
some  .water;  in  the  mean  time,  I  will  examine  the  wound." 

It  was  not  necessary  to  repeat  the  suggestion  to  the 
young  girl;  and  while  Philip  proceeded  to  examine  tho 
wound  with  aU  the  skiU  of  an  accomplished  practitioner, 
John  de  Ganay  said; 

•  "But  how " 

"It  was  that  miserable " 


^^e^hasr€ceivediHrpuni8limeTrt,ffi6hseip^nr;I},av^ 
Bettled  with  him.    Come,  aU's  weU;  this  wound  is  but  a 


'-  'US 


Tvr 


1. 


^  ',  ja-  ,V"  "'"  J  »  "TL"'  i  i- 


I 


'!#'• 


l^'-/- 


^ 


r 

la 


it. 


Yr??f  i^'^^^^vi-??*-; '  "f?r.|^^^^ 


298 


scratch.  Eight  days  of  rest  wiU  be  sufficient  to  heal  it. 
The  shoulder-blade  is  bruised ;  but  nothing  has  been  bro- 
ken.^ Yes,  indeed,  I  have  done  him  the  service  of  ridding 
the  colony  of  him.  I  knew  he  was  growling  about  here ; 
one  of  our  people  had  seen  him ;  so  this  morning,  when  I 
saw  you  going  out,  I  took  the  Uberty  of  following  you  at  a 
distance.  This  was  not  exactly  right,  I  know;  I  was  pry- 
mg  after  you.    Punish  me,  monseigneur ;  I  deserve  it." 

"  Good  Philip  ]"  murmured  the  viscount,  extending  to 
him  his  hand.  , 

"Then,"  resumed  the  pilot,  «I  arrived  at  the  corner  of 
a  little  grove,  a  few  perches  from  this,  and  hke  a  novice, 
instead  of  mounting  guard,  I  amused  myself  by  pulUng 
grass." 

"Here  is  some  water,"  interrupted  Guyonne,  bringing  a 
Bkin  pitcher  filled  with  cold  water.  "  But  how  is  monseig- 
neur, teU  me,  Philip  ?  It  is  not  serious,  is  it  ?  Oh,  holy 
Virgin  I  how  the  blood  flows." 

"  Fear  nothing,  my  daughter,"  replied  Malificieux.  "For- 
tunateljr,  tlie  awkward  fellow  has  missed  his  aim." 

Assisted  by  the  young  girl,  he  washed  the  wound,  apply. 
ing  cold  water  to  it,  in  order  to  stop  the  blood,  4ndaged 
all  tolerably  well,  whUe  ho  continued  his  history ;  and  when 
he  had  finished  it,  he  presented  a  bottle  to  the  viscount. 
•  "Take  a  small  drop,  monseigneur;  nothing  is  better  to 
restore  oriels  strength.  This  has  been  my  vade  mecum,  as 
our  late  friend,  Grosbec,  used  to  say.  Happily  I  have  found 
it,  for  I  had  lost  it  in  the  snow.  A  famoua  gonrd~Yeg, 
Inaeedj.by  the  tiident  of  Neptune!    I  would  not  give  it 


it 


4*-s 


Ky 


2d0 

for  ten  ingots  of  gold.     Good,  my  tonic  has  producedits 
effect.    What  did  I  teU  you?    Does  not  hia  color  return..    , 
my  child?"  * 

m 

Guyonne's  only  response  was  to  put  her  arm  about  h& 
neck  and  embrace  him. 

« A  kiss  like  that  always  does  good,  although  fifty  win- 
ters may  press  on  one's  shoulders,"  said  he,  gayly. 

Then  he  took.the  viscount  in  his  arms,  laid  him  on  the 

mossy  seat,  and  seemed  to  question  himself.    From  time 

to  time  he  looked  up  at  the  sky,  and  murmured  incoherent 

words.     One,  enfeebled  by  the  loss  of  much  blood,  remained 

m  a  sort  of  voluptuous  torpor,  the  ordinary  result  of  an 

hemorrhage;  the  other  kneeled  at  his  side,  made  a  pillow 

for  him  of  her  arms,  and  contemplated  him  with  that  ex- 

pression  of  divine  love,  which  Raphael  has  imparted  to  the 

face  of  his  Mary. 

"A  thousand  hatches!"  suddenly  exclaimed  the  sailof, 
stamping  with  his  foot;  "nothing  more  was  needed  I 
Rain!" 

This  exclamation  awoke  Guyonno. 

"  It  rains,"  she  repeated. 

"  Yes,  indeed,  it  rains.     By  the  trident' But  no  mat- 

ter.  Yon,  my  child,  wiU  stay  here,  with  the  viscount; 
and  I  wiU  go  for  some  of  our  men  to  remove  him  to  the 
camp." 

«0h  no!  not  you,  Philip,  but  I;  it  is  preferable  that 
you  remain  with  monseigneur.    If  another  attempt  were 


Tosdeon  his  Bfe,  then  remember  I  couid  not  defend  him  ai 
well  as  you." 


'  '.^r* 


-'5, 


'A 


S^^sSglSSs 


'■  '^wwhHffpWwy^^'  -  '■ 


■;!--#^ 


H^., 


rv< 


300 

"As  to  another  attack,  it  is  not  to  be  feared, 
as  you  have  a  lighter  foot  than  I " 


Hoirever, 


'    "  Very  well.     Come  and  keep^  up  the  head  of  monseig- 
neur,  and  before4wo  hours  I  shall  be  back.'* 

She  stooped  to  withdraw  her  arms,  and  the  viscount, 
profiting  by  the  opportunity,  put  his  left  arm  about  her 
neck,  gently  pressed  down  her  head,  and  kissed  her  fore- 
head. 

A  burning  blush  protested  for  the  modesty  of  the  young 
girl ;  but  a  sensdtion  of  indefinable  pleasure  had  gained  the 
cause  of  the  lover. 

i'All  right,^tart !"  said  Philip,  pretending  not  to  have 
noticed  this  interesting  Uttle  scene; 

Guyonne  started,  but  not  without  having  multiplied  her 
recommendations  to  the  sailor,  and  left  as  an  adieu  to  the 
idol  of  her  heart  a  long  look.  Her  absence  was  as  brief  as 
possible.  She  returned,  followed  by  four  colonists,  who 
,  carried  a  litter  covered  with  skins,  for  it  rained  in  torrents. 
Towards  evening,  John  de  Ganay  found  himself  reposlhg 
in  his  bed,  at  the  castle  of  the  camp ;  and  Guyonne  watch- 
ing at  his  side.  From  this  date,  the  relations  between  the 
*  two  young  persons  changed  completely.  The  illness  of 
John  de  Ganay*  was  the  bond  of  union  which  wedded  their 
noble  souls.  They  mutually  understood  that  they  were 
kind,  virtuous,  and  noble.  Had  not  this  accident  hap- 
pened to  the  viscount,  many  mouths,  perhaps,  would  have 
passed  before  Guyonne  would,  dare  to  fiimiliarize  herself 
-■ -  •with^beidea^^bdng  teved  by^  J<An  de  €tant^,  and  before^ 
the  latter  was  aware  of  the  suavity  of  sentiment  which 


ife"  '" 
ffet 


■t--^*"-^  f-''"">"? 


fi'f^-: 


301 


/ 


animated  the  young  girl.  But  the  hours  which  they  passed 
tete-a-tete,  without  being  disturbed  by  external  influences, 
the  little  cares  which  the  condition  of  the  patient  required, 
and  the  mutual  efiusions  of  mind,  succeeded  ia  uniting  to- 
gether two  beings  so  well  calculated  for  each  other. 

The  young  woman  was  so  weary  of  her  assumed  charac 
ter,  that  she  invited  a  thousand  little  frivolities  to  recaU 
her  sex.     A  boarding-school  girl  could  not  be  more  chaste, 
a  lover  morfe  tender,  or  a  mother  more  affectionate.    It 
might  well  be  said  that  the  three  best  qualities  of  the 
woman  were  united  in  her  modesty,  love,  devotion.     To 
the  viscount  she  appeared  an  angel  descended  from  heaven, 
10  guide  him  to  happiness ;  and  he  was  so  happy,  that  he  al- 
most feared  to  see  himself  fully  recovered.     What  was  he  to 
do  when  his  health  was  re-established  ?    Would  he  discover 
to  his  companions  the  sex  of  the  false  Yvon  ?    Would  he 
wed  her  before  God?    Or  would  he  continue  to  comport 
himself  as  he  did  when  ignorant  of  all?     The  dilemma 
was  frightful.    He  could  not  decide  in  favor  of  one  or  the 
other.    The  only  chance  of  safety  was  the  arrival  of  a  ves- 
seV  which  would  deliver  all.    But  was  he  to  wait  for  that 
illusion  ?     For  five  years,  during  whicli.he  had  clung  to  it, 
he  had  not  learned  to  regard  It  in  its  true  light.    Poor 
John,  these  anxieties  poisoned  the  source  from  whidh  he 
derived  so  much  pleasure.     Often,  in  contemplating  Guy- 
onne,  overcome  by  fatigue,  and  sleeping  on  a  stool  at  his 
bed-side,  the  young  man  groaned,  and  tears  filled  his  eyes. 
^^®°'  i"  *^®  ™j*^l'  °^  ™"t6  cons]iltatipns,^  the  language  „. 
•which  lovers  understand  so  well,  he  sighed  mournfully. 
But  Guyonne  immediately  divined  the  cause  of  this  sigh, 


^^^■/ 


M 

A  W 
,-!«& 


'.■-  1^'A^i 


'i>;iri«^v^r'i-T^^f:^ 


+,  *"* 


'802 

and  in  order  to  dispel  painfol  reflections  from  the  breast  of 
her  weU-beJoved,  she  smiled.    As  the  sun  dissipates  t^'$   J' 
clouds,  so  did  her  smile  dissipate  the  grief  of  the  viscourf^ 
Their  tenderness  was  as  profound  as  the  cause  which  had    ' 
engendered  it,  pure  as  the  dove's  wing. 

They  loved  each  other  like  children,  sipping  the  honey 
of  that  first  love  with  ardor,- and  struggling  to  conceal  their 
torments;  for  Guyonne  did  not  feel  less  than  John  their 
equivocal  position;  and  the  future  alarmed  her.     But  it 
was  at  the  ho.urs  of  this  d6ubt  and  bitterness,  that  she  col- 
^  lected  the  treasures  of  her  affection,  to  bestow  them  on  the 
viscount;  it  was  at  these  hours,  especially,  that  she  fondled 
him  with  chaste  caresses,  that  she  sang  to  him  the  divine 
melodies  of  love ;  and  soothed  his  agitated  spirit  in  the  rosy 
arms  of  Hope. 

^  It  was  on  a  fine  day  that  John  de  Ganay  left  his  bed. 
The  eight  colonists,  who  stiU  remained,  came  to  congratu- 
late  him,  and  bring  him  the  best  fruits  of  their  hunting  and 
fishing. 

Disease,  privations,  and  revolt,  had  reduced  to  four  th^ 
number  of  the  soldiers.  However,  they  would  not  re- 
join  the  colonists,  but  lived  miserably  in  a  corner  of  the 

island. 

/ 
The  viscount  having  gone  into  his  chamber  one  evening, 
after  having  part^en  of  a 'repast,  said  to  Guyonne,  in  a 
touching  and  sympatbetic  tone:  * 

"Nowf  my  friend,  I  am  going  to  give  you  the  heiitage 
_f  ^^^"''  P^^'^^^^-    ^^^^"  '^^^^  ^e,  opening  the  coffer. 


_r  '       '^     "^'    "^^^^>   "^"Q"  "^yOpeP'ng  the  coffer,  ^jn 
tie  portrait  of  your  mother,  the  noble  Elizabeth  Guyonne 


■■■?  -^  Tfe'TTTfi^f-S  M^^  - 


p 


V 


'  -t*"  i^jr    ^v  * 


*♦ 


'-,'•'•'" 


803 


9 

de  la  Roche ;  and  here  is  the  correspondence  of  your  un- 
fortunate parents." 

Guyonne  kissed  tenderly  the  saicvenir  yvhxc\\  the  viscount 
presented  her,  and  the  latter  continued  : 

"You  will  pardon  me,  I  hope,  for  having  violated  the 
secret  of  these  letters,  when  you  leani  how  they  have  fallen 
,  into  my  hands." 

Having  stated  to  her  what  had  taken  place  on  the  wreck 
of  the  Erable,  John  continued: 

"When  I  forced  the  casket,  the  portrait  which  it  con- 
tained impressed  me  very  deeply.     I  knew  well  I  had  its 
,    resemblance  somewhere.     But  had  it  not  been  for  Philip, 
who  enlightened  me,  I  should  not  have  thought.of  my  weU- 
beloved  as  soon  as  I  did." 

Guyonne  pressed  his  hand  by  way  of  thanking  him. 
"  Then  I  had  the  indiscretion  to  road  that  correspondence 
of  two  unfortunate  loVers  here  below  who,  without  doubt, 
enjoy  in  another  world  that  happiness  which  they  never 
obtained  in  this.  ♦  *  Oh,  I  weep  while  reading  these  elo- 
quent  papers,  written  with  the  tears  of  grief.— Your  fa- 
ther had  devoted  himself  to  a  military  life  at  an  early  age. 
At  the  age  of  twenty  he  was  considered  one  of  the  most 
distinguished  officers  in  his  profession.  Coming  on  furlough 
to  Nantes  towards  1571,  he  there  formed  the  acquaintance 
of  your  mother,  Guyonne  de  la  Roche ;  but  an  old  feud  separat- 
edthefamiliesof  DelaRocheandthatof  DePentoek.  At  the 
thought  of  a  marriage  with  a  Pentoek,  the  old  Marquis  de 
la  Roche  knitted  his  brows,  and  your  mother  was  con- 
vinced that  she  could  never  obtain  the  consent  oT  he?  S-"^ 
thor.    Obstacles  only  seived  to  inflame  the  passions  of  the 


■  1    a3 


i'' 
.■f 


•  la.'-  i>  v»    - 


''  JiS^..tS^^A^J&3 


'A- 


'V- 


.■^>-**''*' 


804 


^ 


/ 


yonng  people.    They  sworrf  to  e^h  other  eternal  fidelity. 
A  compassionate  priest  consented  to  unite  them  in  secret. 
The  marriage  took  place  in  the  cabin  of  a  peasant.     Only 
one  person   was  intrusted  with  the>ecret.     This  person, 
my  Guyonne,  was  Margaret,  your  fofer-mother.  She  aidtrd 
h.3  mistress  in  concealing  her  b^l^-fa  the  family-way 
Which,  however,  soon  became  known!  .Then,  at  your  birth 
she  nursed  and  reared  you  Uke  her  own  child.  During  this  ' 
^me  your  father  was  absent  at  Brest.    It  was  there  he 
Earned  that  his  adored  wife  had  givep  him  a  daughter. 
«h,  if  you  Will  only  ^ad  the  letter  he  sent  your  mother 
then,  Guyonne  I    How%  loved  her-how  he  knew  how 
to  alleviate  her  son-ows.    Mon  Dieuf  I  wish  I  could  love 
you4n  that  way—."  f 

"Good  friend,  proceed,  I  beg  of  yoij,"  said  the  youn- 
giri  with  the  tear  in  her  eye.  „  * 

"Alas!  what  I  have  to  relate  you  now,  is  very  painful. 
The  A^avarre,  in  which  Maximus  de  Pentoek  served  re- 
ceived orders  to  go  to  the  Indies.  Four  years  had  passed 
'before  anything  was  heard  of  her.  Then  the  news  came 
that  she  had  been  Avrecked ;  this  was  the  death-blow  to 
your  mother — ." 

^  John  de  Ganay  made  a  pause,  in  order  to  avoid  disturb- 
ing the  grief  of  the  young  woman  who  sobbed  aloud;  and 
when  she  had  somewhat  calmed,  he  terminated  as  follows 
that  melancholy  history  : 

«  Your  father  had  not  perished,  however.  The  vessel  which 
bore  him,  having  been  cast  on  the  shores  of  the  East  Indias  he 
ramained^there  until  he  could  return  to  France,  where  be-^ 


hope,d  to-  find  his  cherished  wife,  and  a  little  angel  to  con- 


l3    ^I>*,3 

l&feL  ,      *f|psb*?aS" 

t 

^&ia^>? 

'J  v^1 


V  ■■  -'■• 


delity.  , 
secret. 
Only 
erson, 
aided 
-way, 
birth, 
g  this 
ire  he 
'hter. 
other 


how- 
love 


0  liner 


nful. 
I,  re- 
ssed 
ame 
r  to 

urb- 
and 
aws 


\ 


805 


Bole  him  for  his  past  misfortunes.  Judge  of  his  despair 
when  he  arrived  at  Nantes  I— He  Jhqnired  for  Catharine ;  no 
one  knew  what  had  become  "of  her— ."      .   \ 

"My  friend,"  murmured  Guyoiine  in  l,roken  accents, 
falling  on  her  knees,  "let  us  pray  to  God  for  those  who 

— . _ «« 


are  no  more.' 


» 


i1v 


•■f> 
•Us 


«fj 


lich 

,he 

he 


/ 


on- 


:-|V<- 


iU.V 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


I*. 


In  a  week  after,  Viscount  de  Ganay  waS  completely  re- 
eMablished.     On  a  beautiful  afternoon  he  proposed  to  go. 
fishing.    The  young  woman  eagerly  accepted.    Being  duly 
provided  with  lines,  thejjr  embarked  in  a  large  skiff  which 
hj»d  been  constructed  from  the  debris  of  the  Erable,  they 
stkrted,  accompanied  by  Malificieuk,  who  was  to  perform 
the  duty  of  rowing.    The  young  couple  eat  at  the  poop  of 
the  vessel,  and  Philip,  not  doubting  that  they  would  occupy 
themselves  more  in  speaking  of  love  affairs  than  in  making 
war  on  the  inhabitants  of  the  water,  so  placed  himself  that  . 
his  back  was  towards  them.  In  order  to  inconvenience  them 
as  little  as  possible  by  his  pr^ence,  the  brave  sailor  began 
to  hum  an  old  war  song. 

Thus  pre-occu^ied  with  their  future«»s  they  were  them- 
selves  by  their  mutual  tenderness,  Francoeur  took  no  notice 
either  of  time  wluch  fltfw  with  the  rapidity  of  an  eagle,  nor 
of  the  circle  of  smaU  clouds  which  surrounded  the  setting  _ 


^Iffl 


.J-^yr^ 


■■',.-j4r*|%^  ■ 


*  s-K-,..f''i»iv> 


^^:i;^*. 


.'-iS'i""^'''i 


S07 


Overcome  by  .he  effluvi,  of  that  magpeUc  fluid  which 
^0  c„„.m„n,catc,  and  receives  at  the  same  time  by  he 

than  th^  converged:   But  this  «verie  wa.  the  ha™„„io» 
W^age  of  their  hearts.    They  read  each  other'.  thoZ" 
much  more  easily  than  if  they  had  been  written;  the^!^ 
derstood  better  than  they  oould  have  spoken. 
^   True  love  is  so  im„>atorial  that  every  efcrt,  every  phvs. 
.cal  movement  it  makes  to  express  itself,  is  r-jpugnant  %l 

and  natural  colors;  an  evening  melody  which  one  enjoys 
.lontly  but  of  which  the  chann  is  destroyed  by  any  Ir 

«<ie  he  .bject  we  love,to  the  disposition,  in  which  we  And 
ou^^ives,  when  on  an  evening  m  autumn  atthe  commene l 
n.e„t  of  .w.l,ght,  p.m.ged  iu  an  arm-chair,  before  a  Zi 
fi.e.  we  evoke  the  gracious  images  of  the  imagination 
Th^nm;  we  see  them;  we  feel  them;  we  respire  .he^ 
b,-»  .^  dwse  with  them,  and  we  no  longer  bdon.  to 
^world.    Bathedin  aflood  of  ddi^h,  we  desi^to  s;il 
there,  and  we  are  afr«dto  stir  ourhe,d,  afraid  to  move^ 
-uch  do  we  dread  to  dispei  the  phantim.  of  onrZi" 

^^r™ipFranlrs„sp:dedhiss:«,andsld 

Guyonno  and  John  started. 

"  What  is  the  matter?"  asked  the  latter. 


^.  aaUo.,  W^  lri«  ^„,,,  ^  the  Atlantic,  made 


no  reply 


v:qks 


^^iA.iSUf*,\A^    Ml4£ 


.     808 

At  this  moment  a  black  cloud,  fringed  with  red,' con- 
cealed the  sun, 

"The  cap^  at  the  north-east,  monseigneur,  the  cape  at 
the  north-east  1"  exclaimed  Philip,  without  attempting  to 
disguise  his  emotion. 

John  de  Ganay  gave  such  a  push  to  the  rudder  fixed  be- 
hind him,  that  he  broke'  the  plank  which  held  it.  At  the 
same  instant  a  dull  roaring  noise  was  heard  in  the  dis- 
tance. 

The  sailor  betook  himself  to  his  oars.         '^ 
.^    Two  successive  squalls  whistled  in  the  air. 

^  "  My  God,"  said  Guyonne,  supporting  herself  against  the 
viscount  who  put  his  arms  about  her  by  that  instinct  with 
which  we  all  struggle  against  danger,  even  when  the 
struggle  is  fruitless. 

"Is  it  necessary  to  assist  you,  Philip?"  said  the  equerry. 

Malificieux  did  not  hear  him,.^  new  squaU  havmg  preci- 
-pitated  against  the  skiff  mountains  of  water. 

"  Cling  fast  to  the  seat !"  exclaimed  Francceur. 
I^ortunately  the  waves  passed  by  their  side. 

Disengaged  from  ita  veU,  the  sun  cast  a  parting  glance 
at  the  angry  sea. 

"A  ship!  I  see  a  ship!"  exclaimed  Guyonne. 

In  point  of  fact,  a  vessel  was  in  sight. 
•     "Ah,  we  are  saved!  she  is  steering  towards  the  Isle  of 
Sable,"  said  thte  viscount,  who  had  already  forgotten  the 
danger  to  which  he  was  exposed. 

Philip  remained  silent;  aU  his  efforts  were  necessary  to 
maintain  the  equilibrium  of  the  skiff. 


(  'v'^ 


■y- 


'■Hi 


800  .       k^ 

The  night  fell  rapidly.  The  Atlantic  howled  like  a  wild 
beast,  and  mingled  its  formidable  voice  with  the  whistling 
of  the  wind.  ® 

One  dared  not  open  his  mouth,  or  move  a  Kmb  in  the 
boat.    " 

Suddenly  as  the  skiff  mounted  qn  the  top  of  a  wave,  a 
dark  mass  appeared  before  it. 

"Help,  help!"  cried  John  de  Ganay,  recognizing  the 
ship  which  he  had  distinguished  two  hours  previously. 

Guyonne  rose  her  head,  and  uttered  a  cry  of  horror. 

A  ray  of  the  moon  had  shown  her  the  sardonic  face  of 
the  pilot  Alexis  Chedotel,  standing  at  the  wing-transom« 
on  the  starboard  side  of  the  ship. 

•  ♦  •  •  ♦ 

Next  moming  there  was  great  joy  at  the  Isle  of  Sable. 
A  bark  of  a  hundre4  tons  balanced  herself  coquettishly 
half  a  mile  from  the  shore. 

Chedotel  commanded  her. 

Five  years  previously  after  he  had  dfsposed  forty  indi- 
viduals on  the  Isle  of  Sable,  pretending  that  storms  drove 
him  to  the  coast  of  Europe,  the  pilot  had  brought  back 
William  de  la  Roche  to  France.    The  latter  had  hardly  set 
his  foot  on  shore,  than  he  found  himself  enveloped  in  a 
.  rtiultitude  of  difficulties,  in  the  midst  of  which  the  Dukede 
^ercoeur,  who  commanded  in  Brittany,  retained  him  a 
prisoner  for  some  tune.    It  was  not  until  the  end  of  five 
years  that  he  was  able  to  relate  to  the  king  what  had  hap- 
pened  to  bim  during  his  voyage.    The  monarch,  touched 
with  the  fete  of  the  unfortunates,  abandoned  ofi  the  Isle  of 


-  ■*-  n 


(■    - 


i     ^    -It (    J  »  -    '^ 


■ ,"'« 


810 

Sable,  ordered  the  pilot  who  had  taken  them  there,  to  go 
for  them.    The  latter  fomid  no  more  than  twelve. — 

On  their  return  Henry  IV.  wished  to  see  them  dressed 
as  they  had  been  found.  Their  hair  and  beard,  which  they 
had  allowed  to  grow,  hung  in  disorder  on  their  breast,  and  on 
their  shoulders.  Tkeir  features  had  already  assumed  a 
savage  appearance,*a^vhich  made  them  resemble  Indians 
rather  then  civilized  men.  The  king  caused  fifty  cfowns 
to  be  distributed  tq  each,  and  permitted  them  to  return  to 
their  famUies,  without  being  liable  to  be  brought  to  justice 
for  their  old  offenses." 

Thus  finished  the  drama  of  the  Isle  of^able. 


54" 


'A^±J£f.^^'-^:t'f:'±^mM 


■3*1 


,    '    '      _  ^   '•^'^  -J^    -.'  ',  ♦ft*- >«  r  i"*'    '.'    "'wNT'^  '' V" 


there,  to  go 
ire. — 

em  dressed 
which  they 
east,  and  on 
assumed  a 
die  Indians 
fty  cfowns 
>  retm-n  to 
t  to  justice 


(( 


t 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

CONCLUSION-. 

And  John  de  Ganay !  John  de  Ganay  I  the  brave 


John 


•  reader,  shakini 


:with 


exclaims 
disappointment. 

"And  Guyonne,  the  divine,  the  incomparable  Guyomie?" 
asks  the  mascuUne  reader,  with  indignant  impatience 
'    "  What  has  become  of  the  good  Malificieux  ?  my  God  I 
would  like  to  know  I"  demands  an  infantine  voice. 

Ifot  being  able  to  resist  this  charming  trinity,  which 
presses  him,  ought  the  narrator  to  commit  an  indiscretion 
to  satisfy  his  auditory?    Let  us  respond. 

Philip  FrancoBur,  Guyonne  de  Kerskoen,  and  John  de 
Ganay,  after  having  confronted  a  thousand  deaths,  landed 
on  the  shores  of  Acadia.  They  were  received  by  some 
families  who  had  settled  there.  The  two  lovers  married 
each  other.  For  a  year  they  enjoyed  unalloyed  happiness, 
but  at  the  end  of  this  time,  Guyonne  died  in  giving  birth 
to  a  male  child.  • 


\/->  i^  ,'^j 


^ii&. 


K-^'ii  ,»,  i^f^^^^j,  1^ 


-'  4.  'I  .  '  *  ' 


^': 


81  • ,         ,   ,\ 

j*  Pardon  me^my  friend,"  said  she  to  her'husband  before 
expiring,  «I  had  concealed  from  you  the  vow  I  had  made 
the  day  I  was  going  to  die  with  cold  on  the  ice,  to  consecrate 
to  the  worship  of  Jesus  the  remainder  of  my  days,  if  he 
spared  them.  You  know  that  I  have  failed  in  this  vow; 
the  Lord  has  not  blessed  our  union ;  but  let  his  holy  wilj 
be  done !  Could  the  example  of  its  mother  recaU  uncfeas- 
ingly  to  the  poor  infant  who  has  just  been  born,  that  she 
should  religiously  observe  her  vows,  if  she  wishes  to  be 
happy  in  this  wor|d,  and  in  the  next !" 

Overwhelmed  with  grief,  John  de  Ganay  responded  only 
with  an  explosion  of  sobs.         '• 

"P.S.  But  Laura  de  Kerskogn  ?" 

The  chronicle  reports  that  she  was  abducted,  and  mar- 
ried  by  Bertrand  de  Mercceur. 

"Were  they  happy?  ^ 

-?        ■  .    .      .  -  . 


112ns. 


^ 


W.^%±.^  ' »  ?'}'k^f'£Xlsf'..^ 


hi::<s:tf^^^ 


"■.r-«f^:i,:^ 


i>  |S    ".-;*    . 


isband  before 
v^  I  had  made 
to  consecrate 
7  days,  if  he 
in  this  vow ; 
his  holy  wilj 
■ecall  unc6as- 
orn,  that  she 
wishes  to  be 

ponded  only 


id,  and  mar- 


X 


<^! 


% 


0 


a- 


m 


h.     ■ 


"». 


Jl^^^1•% 


"=^7.^^** 


